Persimmons are one of the finest fruit around.
Why? Because a) they're beautiful: those golden-red-orange globes always seem to catch the sun so well; b) they often last on the tree long after the leaves have fallen, creating a curious Christmas-tree-bauble effect that brightens up the harshest season of the year; and c) most importantly of course, they taste so good.
But it's not just a single taste and texture: persimmons undergo a wonderful change as they ripen. In their first flush, early in the autumn, they are crisp like apples, not so juicy and with a hint of astringency. Left to ripen further (whether on the tree or in the fruit bowl) the fibres soften and the sugars develop until, eventually, the flesh becomes as runny and syrupy as a jam, enclosed within a thin, leathery skin. But it's the final stage, the one that arrives in winter, that I like best – hoshi-gaki (dried persimmons). The fruit are harvested when ripe but still quite firm, then the skins are removed, and they are hung up on strings that are wound around their woody stems. It's a major cottage industry up in the mountains, but even in the city you can sometimes see them hanging outside houses (usually traditional wooden buildings). After a week or more in the dry air and sun they start to shrivel up, turning into wonderful chewy treats, reminiscent of dates or prunes but with their own distinctive sweetness. In the shops these can fetch a pretty price (like the deluxe packages, below, in Kinokuniya); the best ones are always those prepared by hand, whether in a farmhouse or in your own home...
