This morning, Kadamba Mala (screen name: Kmala) left a comment on yesterda’s post (the Gary Snyder persimmon poem which is published in this week’s New Yorker Magazine):
love this. absolutely love this. this makes me want to buy the jam. except I hate cardamom. oh, the humanity!
I’ve known Kadamba since 1997. If there’s one thing she is, it is a straight shooter. But still, how could she just insult me like that? “Hate cardamom?” Hate is a strong word, isn’t it? Why not tell me you think one of my kids is a big loser! I mean, it’s almost like the same thing, isn’t it?
While I know that some tastes hit the tongues of different people with varying results, I just cannot imagine hating cardamom. But nevertheless, Kadamba has spoken (well, more like commented).
So, what to do?
I just so happened to have a lot of goopy persimmons, ripe in a way that if it were any other fruit would be considered over ripe. With persimmon there is no such thing. Just increasing stages of desirability.
Using my hand I tore out the pulp, fleshy and moist, squeezing the fruit to extract all of its orange juice into my pot. I added the scrapings of a Madagascar vanilla bean as well as Spanish saffron.
Cook cook cook pour pour pour. Jam in jars, all tiny portable four ouncers. The taste, free of any cardamom, is perfectly subtle. The fruit is not overwhelmed by the spicing, yet the vanilla bean and the saffron invigorate this jam with the sweetness of their tastes.
Saffron Vanilla Bean Persimmon Jam reminds me of a baked pumpkin, if pumpkin were a fruit. The creamy smooth fleshy texture, the earthy orange color and the subtly sublime flavor of this autumnal fruit makes it the perfect departure from run of the foodmill fall favorite, the apple. Saffron Vanilla Bean Persimmon Jam makes a pleasant tart or crumble filling. This weekend it will make its appearance smack dab in the middle of Harriet’s thumbprint cookies (which–due to their large size–have been renamed by some as “paw print” cookies).
If you are interested in a jar (Kadamba!), email me at email@example.com. Four ounces for $4.