Writing a Cookbook: Sauteed Persimmons

-Something without pasta. Thank god.-

Writing a cookbook is an interesting venture. Things are often unpredictable, which is both exhilarating and somewhat exhausting.

Take, for example, the speed at which things move in the publishing world. Sometimes things go achingly slow like the near year it took to cobble together a proposal that Stephanie and I were proud to put our names to. At other times things move at breakneck speed like when we actually sold the book during a hurricane three-day publisher bidding war that literally kept me tied to my phone and e-mail for a good 72 hours.

Details are insane. I'm learning publishing slang. I'm doing my best to go over each recipe with a fine tooth comb only to come back the next day and find new details I forgot to include. I'm familiarizing myself with copyright laws. The contracts are so long and confusing they practically cause vertigo and require steady footing, not to mention reliable people at your back to prop you up and hold a magnifying glass for that print under the dotted line you're so eager to sign. Lucky, the peeps at Little, Brown and Company and my agent, Janis Donnaud, are all kick ass people who I know have my back.

Organization is key. Numerous spreadsheets have been crafted, accounts created, and documents shared. There are notebooks. Literally notebooks. Plural. To keep things in check.

In fact, this organization has been crazy especially when it comes to the many and beloved testers I am so happy to be working with. When Stephanie and I put out a call for volunteer testers we expected a humble number of emails to eek their way to us.

We definitely did not expect 300+ volunteers.

-Words cannot express my shock and gratitude.-

To all the testers out there who are currently testing or waiting to test a recipe, know that we adore you. You guys are the heroes of this book. The organization is stressful but worth it as I've had an amazing privilege to get to know many of you personally as you share stories with me and we converse about cooking, cheese, and our families. We love every typo you find, every recipe quirk, and we adore the great feedback were getting (almost all of it positive).

I know many of you have sent e-mails to us wanting to test a recipe and are still waiting for a response! I beg your patience. Between blogging, my day job, moving, the wedding, and cooking and testing it's been hard to get through the deluge of e-mails I have coming in like a digital tsunami. Know that it's a current I am slowly swimming against and that I will address each and every one in the coming weeks.

And the testing itself!? What a whirlwind! There have been some amazing things coming out of this kitchen. Ingredients like persimmons, truffle oil, arugula, vanilla beans, shallots, and guanciale have all had a place here and each one warmly admitted to the fold like a new member marrying into the family (Ack! The wedding similes are creeping in!).

Admittedly, there has been one or two recipes that have given off an indolent thud as they hit the bottom of the trash can, never to see the light of day. The good with the bad and all that noise.

Oh, but the cheeses. *Sigh* The cheeses...

Sure, my cheese bill may have been more than my rent this month, but it is so worth it. Dolcelatte, Keen's Cheddar, Abbaye del Be'loc, Feta, Nicasio Square, Gruyere, Point Reyes, and chalk-white slabs of Monte Enebro have all had a chance to dance on my plate.

The Engagement: Persimmon Spice Cake

-Persimmons announce the arrival of fall, amongst other things.-

I'm told by many of female friends that most women have been planning their wedding since they were little girls marrying off their Barbie dolls. Many of them admit they are, in fact, some of these women. They know the china pattern, the first song, how they'll dance with their father, and what the dress will look like down to a sequin-sewn T. Some women already have their favorite florist on speed dial just in case. I know bakers who attest that some brides in question have called them about cake flavors before even informing the parents about the big news.

The fairer sex may just be a tad crazy, it seems.

Men (well, maybe most men, I can't speak on behalf of my sex or sexual preference) never think about this. I certainly never have past the fact of, "Dear Lord, if I ever want to do one of these giant circus weddings with 300 people please let the flower-and-glitter-laden gazebo I take my vows under collapse on top of me." Because, honestly, I'm not a wedding fan; and though I have been to some rather lovely ones and enjoyed myself I have had no desire to really take part in the whole affair.

Now, apparently, I have to do another wedding. Mine.

Because BF proposed.

And I said yes.

-Tungsten with an abalone shell band. Because I know 99.9% of you want to know. The other 0.01% are my straight male readers.-

So BF Fiancée, has done the deed, the family members on both sides have been called. Cheers all around because I'm the happiest boy in the world right now. I got the Masters, the travel, the book deal, and the boy. Life is good. Like hardcore, knock-on-wood, finding $20 in your pocket, thank you baby Jesus good.

Fiancée and I were having our first night to just sit down and unwind since I had returned to China. We had a lovely night at home watching movies and eating a dish I was testing for the cookbook. Eventually we retired for the night. Suddenly he grabbed me close and he told me he loved me and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.

Then in the comfort and warmth of our home he got on one knee and asked me to marry him.

Never have I met someone who matches me so well, who can make me laugh, who can charm my parents, who can calm me down when I panic, who thinks about my needs, who sets me straight or humors me when I need it and knows which response to give, who takes out the trash without being asked, who can make a fine cocktail, who supports me in everything I do, who makes my rockets fly, and who enjoys cooking and eating an epic meal.

Snack Habit

-Two seconds before I inhaled this lonely persimmon chip.-

-half a package of mint M&M's
-a few spoonfuls of pomegranate seeds
-a quarter of an onion bagel
-a pear
-far too many Cheeze-its (aka: the snack that proves God loves me)

I ate all of this between the oatmeal I had for breakfast and my late lunch of a simple salad of bok choi salad with croutons, oil, and vinegar.

Snacking has become my new bad habit. No longer a conscious act, it's become totally reflexive. Simple potato chip syndrome: my hand mechanically moving in a perpetual cycle between snack and mouth. Half the time I don't even realize I'm eating.

Worse is the control issue; like a salt hungry zombie I'll shuffle over to the kitchen in a daze and bust our a bag of kettle corn and bring it back to the couch where I'm working. Five minutes later, it'll dawn on me that, holy crap, I'm eating popcorn! Again! Ten minutes after I just put it away!

What's scary is the speed and quantity I shovel it into my face. Like a disciple of Eat Beast I just shove it into my maw in such quantities, my God, it's surprising my jaw doesn't just unhinge like an anaconda. Certainly, I was hoovering it in so fast enough that somewhere starving orphans spontaneously broke out into tears without understanding why.

In a huff of frustration I gathered up all the evil snacks in my house and put them on the community table in the kitchen at work (I'll be damned before I throw out go food, so instead I'll just take everyone down on the train to Chubbyville with me). No more chips and sweets for Garrett.

Still, let's be honest, stopping a bad habit cold turkey isn't that simple. Smokers use patches to ween themselves away from their sweet siren nicotine. I had to do the same.

Fruit, usually, are the snacks that our mothers gave us. A big bowl of pomegranate seeds is always swell, but quite a bit of work and not the stuff of a simple snack. Pears are great, and to help ease the pain I put a huge bowl of them at my desk. Sadly, it's not uncommon for one or two to go missing thus leaving me hungry. (Note to coworkers: I WILL find out who keeps purloining my pears.)

I have plenty of persimmons though, a fruit that I have an awkward relationship with. For me, persimmons are like someone you always go on bad dates with but always have great sex with afterwards. I hate persimmons cut up and served straight; they're far too sweet, like biting into floral, saccharic flesh. However, when cooked, dried out, baked, or candied they're awesome. In other words I only enjoy them in certain instances for specific reasons.

I decided then that I needed to make a sweet and easy snack using these persimmons. Something I could prepare ahead of time then whisk to my desk or to work to nibble away at uncontrollably sans guilt.

Recalling a simple recipe for persimmon chips I went to work while restraining myself from sneaking a piece of cranberry cake as I prepped. A quick bath in some simple syrup and then baked on low heat for a few hours (not all of us have dehydrators) and the persimmons would become a crunchy sweet snack that would keep my mouth and hands occupied.

If you're planning to be around your home doing house work or writing a blog post or something these are the perfect background recipe for you. Very little work with tasty payoff. A novel solution for any other snackers out there.

-I believe that snacks are tastier when they're nice to look at.-

Persimmon Chips
1 cup of sugar
1 cup of water
2 persimmons
1 lime
kosher salt (optional)

1. Preheat the oven to 200 and line two baking sheets with parchment paper or a silpats.

2. Using a sharp knife or a mandolin set to 2.0, make thin slices of persimmon. Place in a bowl and toss with the lime juice.

3. Bring the sugar an water to a boil and then bring down to a simmer over low heat. Place in the persimmon slices and let cook for two minutes.

4. Using a slotted spoon or a fork transfer the slices to the prepared baking sheets. If you want give them a tiny dash of kosher salt, being careful as too much will cover up the delicate taste of the persimmon (personally, I prefer them with no salt).

5. Bake for 2 hours then flip the slices over and bake for another 30 minutes. Cool on wire racks.

-Not quite a cheeze-it. But they're both orange so close enough, right?-

Persimmon Bread for Your Terrible, Awful, No Good, Very Bad Day

-Fuyu and Cinnamon persimmons, when hard, are the best for this recipe.-

"Chapter 4?" I thought.

And then the panic set it.

"Please don't tell me I..." I reached into my bag and grabbed out my notebook. I funbeled through the unorganized mess of handouts and papers creating a snow storm of white paper on my desk and eventually pulled out my syllabus. I read the day's assignments:

10/26 Teaching Strategies
"Remedial Writing Courses" Rose (SacCT)
"Writing and Reading as Collaborative Social Acts" Bruffee (SacCT)
Teaching Developmental Writing - Chapter 4

"Chapter 4? No. No, no, no... I read chapter 14!" My inner voice was now shrieking with such terror you'd think Norman Bates was plunging a knife into it. The class had read chapter 13 last week and in my exhaustion I misread the syllabus.

Then, like a bomb went off in my head, I realized what this meant. "I wrote my paper on the wrong chapter."

My body shuddered. The first domino in a long line had been flicked over and now my emotional and mental barrier began to reel apart. Tears welled and my I felt myself hyperventilating. I immediately crammed it all back down into the pit of my stomach making it feel dull and shocked like it had been sucker punched with a brass knuckled fist. I was going to have to try and hold back a total breakdown right then in the middle of class in front of nineteen of my peers for the next 75 minutes while simultaneously acting like a coherent human being making salient observations about the two correct readings I did finish.

I felt hollow, like a porcelain doll containing an maelstrom whose turbulent winds would at any second crack and shatter me. I noticed through my blurry vision that everyone began to move into small groups. I lifted my desk and did the same, my physical body and mind in some ambulatory fugue state. Moving without awareness, my body was powered by a sense of utter defeat.

"Are you okay?" asked my classmate, Manpreet. She was one of the people in my class who I admired; charming and intelligent, one of those naturally effervescent people who always seems to have the right words. Yet at the moment these were not the words I wanted to hear. I wanted to hear the words "chapter 14". "Are you okay?" simply pointed out a hole in the emotional brick wall I was trying to lay.

"No." I breathed. At that instant my porcelain shield cracked. "No. I'm not. I wrote on the wrong chapter. I wrote on chapter 14, and not chapter 4. I've already cut way back on all my side jobs and other sources of income and from that have willingly taken a pay cut just to try and keep up with class this semester and after that I still make a giant mess of things?! I don't do that kind of thing. I never make mistakes like these. I can't." My breathing became erratic and my voice pitched high with panic.

"It's okay. Don't freak. Someone else did the same thing last week," her eyes caught me like a snake charmer's pipe.

"Wha... what? Really?" I stuttered.

"Yes. Just talk to the professor. It'll be okay," she said in a tone so clam that it I could only assume it was a universal and unquestionable truth.

I paused, then asked, "Is anyone else feeling seriously against the wall this semester? I'm barely keeping up."

"Yes," Manpreet and the other people in our small group pronounced in unison.

After class I went up to the professor and explained my situation. After an hour and some joking the storm had abated. Now calm I was able to articulately explain my innocent mishap.

-Unlike my homework, this bread is foolproof.-

"Don't worry," said my professor, "you can turn in the right one on Wednesday. But you know your paper was supposed to be on last week's discussions right?"

...What?

"So wait, you mean had I done chapter 4 I would have done the wrong one anyways?"

It's a little known fact that on October 26th at roughly 5:50 PM time stopped for one second. I know. I felt it. Because when time stops, even for one second, it feels like years.

One no-second later time resumed, "Oh God, I did all of the responses wrong then? I did them all on the current week's reading and not the previous!" The maelstrom returned.

"No, just the last one or two. But don't worry. I only took about half a point and I noted it on the one I'll return to you next. The point is you were still thinking about the texts and engaging them and that was what was most important." She smiled at me and then turned to gather her things and was on her way out.

I went home defeated. When I walked in the door I dropped my messenger bag to the floor and made my way to the kitchen. I pulled out the persimmon bread I made the day before. Apparently, the only thing I did do right that day. As I pulled back the cling wrap I breathed in deep, the air now made heavy and sweet.

I began to cut off a piece and smear it with butter. The bread was amazing though it wasn't going to fix any of the mistakes I made or ones I was still going to make. Food can't always do that. It did however fill my empty stomach a bit and calmed some of those clouds. I no longer felt like I would shatter. I took another bite of bread letting my tongue feel out the textures of the dense bread, nibby pumpkin seeds, and chewy cranberries. I let it taste the spike of ginger, the coy cardamom, and the creamy waft of vanilla. I slumped on the couch and exhaled.

"Damn good bread," I sighed to myself.

-An in depth look at the cure for a shitty day.-

Persimmon Bread for Your Terrible, Awful, No Good, Very Bad Day
Makes one loaf, can be doubled for two - adapted from zucchini bread recipe at Simply Recipes

1 egg, beaten
2/3 cup sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
1 1/2 cups grated fresh fuyu or cinnamon persimmon
1/3 cup melted unsalted butter
1 teaspoons baking soda
Pinch salt
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon of ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon of ground cardamom
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 cup chopped pecans, walnuts, or pumpkin seeds (optional)
1/2 cup dried cranberries or raisins (optional)

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). In a large bowl, mix together the sugar, eggs, and vanilla. Mix in the grated persimmon and then the melted butter.

2. Sprinkle baking soda, salt, and spices over the mixture and mix in. Add the flour and fold in. Fold in the nuts and dried cranberries or raisins if using.

3. Divide the batter equally between 2 buttered 5 by 9 inch loaf pans. Bake for 1 hour (check for doneness at 50 minutes) or until a wooden pick inserted in to the center comes out clean. Cool in pans for 10 minutes. Turn out onto wire racks to cool thoroughly.

-It may not fix mistakes, but it'll make you feel a lot less crappy about them.-