Persimmon Bread/ Cake (let’s be honest!)

So it is winter, and the abundant persimmon harvest of the fall may indeed be dwindling. On the other hand, you, like me, may have found yourself with a bombardment of simultaneously ripening persimmons and thought: What can I do with so much persimmon goodness? If you were smart, you froze the persimmons whole before they rotted, or you mushed them luxuriously with your hands, popping them from their skins, and letting the sensuous oozing calm your nerves, and then carefully, promptly stored this puree/ mush in the freezer. You may even have made a persimmon reduction (with limited sugar?) and canned it because you believe in living off the land year round. In any case. There is only so much you can do with a freezer/ cabinet that is full of persimmon.

So, my friends, it is time to get to task.

This bread, which is anything but a staple, has become my new fall-winter favorite. It fills the house with a rich aroma, and fills the head with fantasy. It is perfect for a party, or gift to hosts and hostesses, or even, if you feel the urge, as mini-loaves for holiday gifts for co-workers.

This recipe, I adapted from David Lebovitz’s blog, which in turn adapted it from Beard on Bread by James Beard. I cheat and am unconventional, but, the result is, to date, stupendously fail safe… the same cannot be said for other endeavors in one’s life, so let’s count our blessings when we can.

Two 9-inch Loaves (or one Bundt pan, or 9 in. round layer cake pans)

3½ cups flour (2 dup whole wheat, 1.5 cups unbleached white flour)
1 teaspoons salt (a little more if using unsalted butter)
2 teaspoon baking soda 1 teaspoon ground clove 1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 cups sugar (I always use just under 2 cups) 2/3 cup AGED RUM
1 cup melted butter (the experts say to use unsalted, but I prefer salted) cooled to room temperature (which can be achieved quickly by mixing in the rum…)
4 large eggs, at room temperature, lightly beaten
2ish cups persimmon puree (from about 4 squishy-soft Hachiya persimmons or even Fuyu that are not firm enough to eat crisp, I do believe in food salvaging)
1 cup or so walnuts or pecans, toasted and chopped
1 cup or so dried cranberries (or other dried fruit: cherries, apricots, dates)

Procedure:

1. Butter 2 standard 9-in. loaf pans. Dust with flour and tap out any excess. Hope there are no embarrassing fingerprints that belie your shoddy job at greasing pans!

2. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Enjoy the sensory inundation of the roaring gas oven. While an accurate thermometer in your oven is a useful tool, I find that as long as you are vigilant, this bread is very forgiving to slight temperature fluctuations.

3. Sift the dry ingredients, save the sugar, in a large mixing bowl. Spices always please me more in the flour mixture, I feel they get better distribution.

4. Mix the rum into the melted butter: it aids in cooling. Add this to the persimmon puree, sugar and egg mixture. Make sure to bask in the glory of the buttered rum mixture. It is quite heady.

5. Stir until you have a wet, sticky batter. Lick your fingers if you must, but be careful not to lick anyone else’s fingers, lest you misunderstand their intentions! Or, conversely, lick whatever fingers offered, with the understanding that it is only the visceral effects of the rum affecting your id. Your superego will surely step in once the effects have abated.

5. Bake 1 hour or until toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. And by clean, I mean not gooey at all. You can also put the entire mixture into a bundt pan and bake for roughly the same amount of time, all the while calling it a cake, instead of bread! You might even consider drizzling it with a chocolate/ Grand Marnier glaze if cake is the ultimate goal.

Storage: Will keep for about a week, if well-wrapped, at room temperature. But in my experience it has never lasted that long! It will take very well to being frozen, unlike the passionate chef who baked it.