14 months, here we come!

I shot these myself, I swear.




Vocabulary now includes "Duck," "Bubble," "Moo," "Gus," "Dada," and "Ball." (Note "Mama" is still conspicuously absent.) (Thanks, Stan, for helping a girl out on that one.)

Persimmons: Fruits of the Devil

Today I would like to talk about my new nemesis, persimmons.

I had never had a persimmon. I know (knew) nothing about persimmons. However, I receive a box of organic produce every week, whatever is in season, and this week it happened to include persimmons. (I only knew what they were because they came with a label.)

Now, bear in mind that I enjoy many foods most people would consider off-the-beaten-path. I eat fennel and kale and barley and leeks and stuff like that. So, I would like to think that I have a nice, wide palate for such things.

Well, I read online that you have to peel the persimmons first, which I did. It seemed kind of fleshy, like a mango. I took a small bite. Mmm! Very sweet and juicy. At first.

Then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere---WHAM this PUTRID aftertaste bowls you over and gets worse with every passing second. Blech!!! Worse and worse. Awfuler and awfuler. Ack!!! Like pouring bleach all over your tongue.

So I was faced with a quandary---Do I just throw the persimmons out, or attempt to 'fix them up' so they can at least be imbibed without tossing one's cookies?

I searched and searched, and found no appealing persimmon recipes. I also noted warnings not to eat "too many persimmons, as they may induce diarrhea." "Unpalatable" was also a word I ran across a couple of times. Hmm. Not promising. Alas, I blew past all the warnings and fixed them up anyway. (My first mistake.)

I decided to stew them. You can stew just about any fruit, and by adding butter, brown sugar, and lemon juice, enjoy a savory fruity dessert. Which is exactly what I did.

I stewed them and stewed them. And stewed them some more. They just weren't softening. I stewed them for over an hour and finally took them off the stove, as they weren't looking any different. I attempted to mash them up with a potato masher. Finally, I took a small bite.

ACK!!!! There wasn't even any tempting deliciousness this time---just butt-puckering aftertaste, magnified times about ten. I spit it into the sink, washed my mouth out, and dumped the whole pot down the drain. So much for conquering persimmons!! Absolutely awful. You can't even IMAGINE how awful they were. Chug a bottle of Windex and that might get you about half-way there.

I chewed a stick of gum in an attempt to get rid of the taste. It took me OVER AN HOUR to get rid of it, it lingered and lingered.

Also, we woke up this morning and the whole kitchen sink was broken, with dirty water and bits of persimmon everywhere. They clogged up my sink!!! Those little sons of bitches!!!! We can't use the sink or the disposal or anything, it's all a big mess. Unbelievable!

So, the moral of the story is: Avoid Persimmons. They are the fruit of the devil. I hope I never see one again as long as I live! They look like revolting little tomatoes, except they're pure evil.

Or, ignore my warnings and try them for yourself. Just have plenty of toilet paper on hand. And gum. And a good plumber. And one of those big laundry pins for your nose. I'll stop now.