Words: Annabel Langbein

As autumn draws to a close, the deep orange orbs of persimmons are some of the last fruits left hanging. When I lived in Brazil we would buy persimmons by the case. That old-fashioned variety, known there as kaki fruit, needs to be over-ripe to the point of becoming a jelly before it loses its mouth-puckering astringency. We would store the fragile fruit in the fridge and consume them icy cold, the coldness offsetting what was otherwise a bland sweetness.
These days the persimmons that I have planted in both my Auckland and Wanaka gardens are all non-astringent Japanese varieties. They are crisp to the bite but, like the old-fashioned fruit, have a flavour that is sweet with almost no acid balance.
I like to slice persimmons into salads for a sweet crunch with rocket or slightly bitter endive, avocado and nuts, dressed with a mustard vinaigrette. They also make a great dessert sauce, chopped and puréed with a little ginger, fresh orange juice, a squeeze of lime or lemon and a little honey to taste.
Or try them in a fresh fruit salad combined with kiwifruit, a can of lychees, some chopped crystallized ginger and a squeeze of lemon juice.