It surprised me to discover that persimmons perform spectacularly in the oven, turning all maple-custardy inside. Last week I roasted some fuyu persimmons, red onions, and brussels sprouts, and took them to the Obama potluck garnished with toasted walnuts and drizzled with maple syrup. I was so happy when Virginia and Indiana were colored blue on the map -- both states in which I have registered to vote, but never thought it would matter. Obama hangs out with Alice Waters, said the farmer Waters shops from.
San Francisco erupted into spontaneous street parties. I biked between joyfully honking cars on Market Street, and threaded my way through the crowds on Castro, where a bit of anxiety tempered everyone's glee. California's Proposition 8 passed. What a piece of hate-legislation it is: using the state constitution to tell some people they can't marry.
Tonight I spooned super-ripe peeled fuyu persimmons into delicata halves with minced shallots, raisins, and butter, and baked them up till quite tender at 425. And then I had cornbread crumbled in my lentil soup. I made Sally Fallon's yogurt-fermented cornbread from Nourishing Traditions, which was light, gold-crusted, nubbly, and deeply corn-y.
To roast persimmons: select ripe-orange, almost-tender fuyu persimmons. Rinse them and pluck out their gorgeously symmetric leaf-tops with your thumb. Slice them in eighths and pick out any pits. Arrange them on a buttered baking sheet, sprinkle with salt, and roast at 400 till golden on the underside -- twenty minutes or so -- and flip them. Continue baking till uniformly golden, crisp on the outside and very tender on the inside. Toss with other roasted or cooked vegetables, or eat plain with butter.