It is hard to make something brown look good, especially when all the surfaces in your kitchen are brown and the table tops have this disgusting 70s dotted look to it. You know, like liver spots on furniture. It has been there for too long!
So yes, it is Autumn, which also means I am going to be sending some baking, love-vibes to my dear friend Anne-Margaret. Yes, it is a hyphen in her first name, her whole name fits around the circumference of a basketball (we tried), has drunken her own vomit without knowing and also refused to smile when I met her at 13, because she feared it would give her wrinkles.
How could you not love her?
In year 10, when I had the worst insomnia imagineable, I would bake myself to sleep. This meant, all the crazy girls of MGHS would get a second breakfast while I propped myself up on the cold steel of the dented lockers, nuzzling myself into near-narcolepsy. Anne was a big fan of this and has probably asked for the recipe twelve times. And that is being modest.
Last Autumn when I made this, I gave her half a loaf which she hid from her boyfriend so she didn’t have to share it and allowed her mother a sliver when she got home. I can’t even remember what it tastes like.
But, the unfortunate thing with this batch is that a clump of baking soda rolled out before I could catch it in the liquid and even though it isn’t that noticeable, it is noticeable to me.
And probably to Anne cos she has eaten it so many time, but fuck it.
This makes 3 loaves, or in my case, 1 loaf and 12 mini loaves (or Moaves if you’re Greenhouse).
Persimmon loaf
1 cup of persimmon pulp (around 4 persimmons), if it is still hard, then cook down till soft for a few minutes
2tsp baking soda
500g caster sugar
1 cup veg oil (I use rice bran)
4 eggs
1 1/2 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp nutmeg
1 1/2 tsp salt
2/3 cup of water
375g plain flour, sifted
1 cup of chopped walnuts
Preheat the oven to 175 degrees.
Stir together the pulp and baking soda and stand for 5 minutes.
In another bowl, stir together the sugar, oil, eggs and spices. Blend till smooth. Add the water to the persimmon pulp, breaking it up. Now, add the flour and the persimmon mixture to the bowl with the sugar, eggs and spices, alternating.
Fold in the nuts and divide the batter into pans.
Bake the loaf for an hour, or till a skewer comes out, tested clean. The mini loaves for 20 minutes.
And yes, they will all look like clumps of poo, but the caramelized stickiness on the outside is soooooo good. Also, when you’re feeling gross, slice it up and fry it in a pan with salted butter, more nuts, some sugar and liqueur. Oh yes.
*edit*
I just received a text from Anne-Margaret saying:
“So, I’m making some crepes and I’ve stuffed an oozy overripe persimmon in my mouth…well half of it at least, and naturally I thought of you. So, I ended up opening up my laptop with the intention of writing a request for the persimmon on your blog. But then I’m on your page and there is a picture of it. Too freaky! Btw, the request for the recipe still stands.”
I think she’s got a really slow internet connection…Westsiders.
4 Comments
They’re in the oven … I had to make it because I not only have brown wood veneer cupboards in my kitchen, I have orange laminex benchtops. Had to be done.
Bottom a little burnt on the one cooked in the crap oan, but the one cooked in the 30 yo bread tin is ORSUM. Thanks for recipe. Where d’you work out that freaky turn the pulp into solid mass thingy?
Oh, that is good to know. I love this bread/loaf/thing.
As with the pulp, I read it in a book and played scientist. Oh, chemistry.
Owen had to stop after every mouthful – nearly after – and say “this is really goob, you know? really goob”
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