My husband once told me that he had eaten a persimmon straight from a tree, and I was insanely jealous. As a cook and food lover how had I never picked anything from a tree and eaten it, notwithstanding a persimmon? He was staying on a farm on one of the more rugged tours with his band, and they’d all picked persimmons. I asked him what a persimmon tasted like. What started out tasting like a tomato ended up, in his words, like “a mouthful of chalk.” Maybe he just got a bad persimmon, but it piqued my curiosity.
I had already told the internet, and I guess the world, about my new year’s resolution–a 52 week challenge to cook with one new food a week. My manager at work said she was excited to watch, which frightened me, since I never think anyone is watching my Instagram. Why had I agreed to do this?
Maybe I watch too much Bon Appetit Test Kitchen on Youtube, but when I realized that Chris Morocco can literally smell his way through a recipe, I felt my inadequacies as a cook. I began smelling my food before eating, with few results. I couldn’t pick out ginger from horseradish with my nose. I’ve furiously googled each test kitchen member’s qualifications, trying to suss out just how they know so much about every food ever. Every one of them has prepared a rutabaga, and I haven’t. I hardly qualify to be a test kitchen member or to even give advice about what you should cook on a weeknight if I’ve never had quince paste or mushrooms duxelles or personally flambeed anything ever.
Can I identify all the different cuts of steak and the textural and flavor profiles? Sadly, no. I have a recurring nightmare that I’m interviewing for the test kitchen job and they wheel out a diagram of a cow and ask me to name all the cuts. This is how I imagine they select their employees. Then I wake up in a cold sweat.
Something I know about myself is that when I start a resolution I finish it. Once it’s written down, it’s written in stone. So I present to you week one of 52 weeks of cooking with a new food. Persimmons. What is a persimmon you ask? It looks like a pretty orange tomato, but somehow also it appears dusty. It tastes like a tomato, too, but slightly sweeter, and it grows on a tree.
This week I’m making a persimmon tart with cloves, cinnamon, lemon peel, and a pretty cornmeal crust. I started by writing the recipe in my recipe journal. I wrote “Persimmon Fart” rather than “tart.” Off to a rocky start. Then I made the tart, which is beautiful by the way, and I dropped it face down. Careful with the bottom of your tart pan, which detaches. Whatever you do, do not hold the tart by the bottom, rather the sides or you’ll drop your tart, too.
Despite my fear of persimmons and worry that this recipe would be a total flop, my persimmon tart turned out as delicious as it looks! The persimmons softened slightly but held their shape, and the cornmeal crust is tender and crumbly like the best biscuit you’ve ever tasted.
For those of you who are daunted by the prospect of trying something new, I encourage you to try this recipe. It’s simple, and the crust requires zero kneading. Plus the persimmons taste a lot like apple pie filling after you bake them. Stay tuned for next week’s new food challenge.
Persimmon Tart with Tender Cornmeal Crust
Prep time
Cook time
Total time
Author: Tastemaker Blog
Recipe type: Dessert
Serves: 6
Ingredients
For the cornmeal crust
- 1 stick softened unsalted butter
- 2 tbsp granulated sugar
- a pinch of salt
- 1 cup all purpose flour
- ½ cup cornmeal
- 2 egg yolks
- 2 tbsp ice water
- 1 tsp lemon zest
For the filling
- 1½ lb fuyu persimmons (about 4 persimmons)
- 6 tbsp granulated sugar
- ½ tsp cinnamon
- a pinch of ground cloves
- 3 tbsp lemon juice
- 1 tsp turbinado or raw sugar (optional)
Instructions
For the cornmeal crust
- In a large mixing bowl, beat the soft butter with the 2 tbsp sugar and a pinch of salt with an electric mixer until creamy. Add the flour and cornmeal and mix again. Add the egg yolks and mix. Add the ice water and lemon zest and mix again for 30 seconds. The dough will be slightly stiff but tacky and pliable. Pat with your hands into a one inch thick disc and wrap with saran wrap. Refrigerate for at least an hour or up to 24 hours.
- In a tart pan with a removable bottom, press your chilled dough out to the edges and sides in an even layer. Freeze the dough while you prepare your persimmons. Don't freeze for longer than 20 minutes.
For the filling
- Preheat the oven to 350.
- Wash and slice your persimmons into ¼ inch thick rounds crosswise. Place the slices in a bowl. In a separate bowl, mix together the sugar, cinnamon, and cloves. Pour this mixture over the persimmons and toss to coat. Squeeze the lemon juice over the persimmons and toss again to coat.
- Starting in the center, create a small ring of persimmon slices in your tart crust. Layer the remaining slices, overlapping over each other slightly around the outside edge of the tart crust. Carefully, holding the edges, not the bottom of the tart pan, place the tart in the center rack of the oven, baking for 30-35 minutes or until persimmons are slightly softened and crust is golden brown. Remove from the oven holding the sides of the tart pan (not the bottom) and let it cool on a wire rack for at least an hour before cutting.
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