Regular readers of this blog are already familiar with my fondness for sharing my garden's bounty with friends and neighbors. This past Monday, it was with particular pleasure that I was on the receiving end of things. My dear friend Kathy presented me with a lovely offering from her garden. I was utterly charmed. What a swell way to kick off the week!
Kathy had picked some Fuyu persimmons from her tree to share with my family. She explained that some of them had yet to ripen, assuring me they would, given time. Kathy had managed to nab the low hanging fruit for us before the birds sunk their hungry beaks into them. They were welcome, she said, to the persimmons growing beyond arm's reach. How thoughtful, indeed!
Native to Japan, persimmons were introduced to California during the nineteenth century. I was not at all familiar with them while living in England and have since discovered they are called "Sharon fruit" there, and are far more readily found in English markets nowadays. Visually, I think persimmons are one of the most beguiling of all autumn's fruits. I derive much pleasure from their cheery burnt orange color and lobed leafy caps. Gathered in an early creamware fruit basket, I think they make an excellent subject for a still life oil painting, don't you?
Kathy also presented me with another delightful gift, a seeded sunflower head. She thought my daughter in particular would be interested in examining this natural curiosity, and had thoughtfully taken the time to dry it in the warm autumn sunshine. She suggested that we extract the seeds and dry them in the oven for a healthy snack, but also to save a few of the raw seeds to plant in our garden next year. I thought that to be a capital idea and shall be sure to do just that.
Of course, we mustn't forget the birds and our occasional squirrel visitor, as they prepare for the leaner months ahead. After discussing the possibility with my daughter of either eating the seeds ourselves or feeding our winged and furry friends with them, she kindly offered up the bounty to the critters. We took the seed head over to our old pear tree and nestled it among the branches. I'm sure this delicious autumn feast will be devoured in no time.
Kathy's thoughtful harvest time gifts brought back memories of autumns in England, in particular those of my formative years as a student. A favorite hymn that was taught to all school-aged children was suddenly at the forefront of my mind. It begins "We plough the fields and scatter the good seed on the land...", and it was enthusiastically and joyfully belted out during early autumn when we children immersed ourselves in the preparations of the Harvest Festival.
I recall the excitement of preparing food boxes and baskets to be distributed locally to the elderly. We would take great pride in decorating brown cardboard boxes with bits of festive wrapping paper or scraps of fabric. The baskets and boxes would be filled with whatever fresh fruits, vegetables, flowers, or canned goods our parents had sent along to school with us as our contribution to the festival. Once we were all satisfied that we did our very best to make our offerings as attractive as possible, the boxes and baskets would be taken into the school's gymnasium and artfully displayed on a groaning table much like the one shown in the charming photograph below.
The entire school would congregate for a special Harvest Festival assembly, singing and giving thanks for the bounty that was laid before us. The excitement was not over quite yet though. We each had a very important task to perform. At the conclusion of our rousing assembly, we students would file off into small groups with our teachers and walk to the neighboring houses of the elderly. It was always such an exciting moment to ring a doorbell, then wait. To us, it seemed like a lifetime until, finally, the door would open wide. Jolly septuagenarians beaming smiles, oohing and aahing, would greet us while eagerly accepting our little harvest gifts. At that moment, all was right with the world. We had played our small part in spreading a little joy to the faces of those we visited.
I leave you with an image of a recent blazing October sky, the view from our balcony that overlooks the gently rolling hills. It is not too often that we witness such dramatic color in our evening skies (billowy silver fog is more the norm) yet, somehow, it all seemed so perfectly fitting. A harvest sky at harvest time.
Do you have a particularly fond memory of this most bountiful time of the year? Please, do tell me about it.
Kathy had picked some Fuyu persimmons from her tree to share with my family. She explained that some of them had yet to ripen, assuring me they would, given time. Kathy had managed to nab the low hanging fruit for us before the birds sunk their hungry beaks into them. They were welcome, she said, to the persimmons growing beyond arm's reach. How thoughtful, indeed!
A lovely gift of persimmons held in my newest acquisition, an early creamware fruit basket
Photo: Chronica Domus
Native to Japan, persimmons were introduced to California during the nineteenth century. I was not at all familiar with them while living in England and have since discovered they are called "Sharon fruit" there, and are far more readily found in English markets nowadays. Visually, I think persimmons are one of the most beguiling of all autumn's fruits. I derive much pleasure from their cheery burnt orange color and lobed leafy caps. Gathered in an early creamware fruit basket, I think they make an excellent subject for a still life oil painting, don't you?
Kathy also presented me with another delightful gift, a seeded sunflower head. She thought my daughter in particular would be interested in examining this natural curiosity, and had thoughtfully taken the time to dry it in the warm autumn sunshine. She suggested that we extract the seeds and dry them in the oven for a healthy snack, but also to save a few of the raw seeds to plant in our garden next year. I thought that to be a capital idea and shall be sure to do just that.
The beautiful underpinnings of Kathy's dried sunflower seed head
Photo: Chronica Domus
Right-side up, the head is loaded with nutritious seed
Photo: Chronica Domus
Of course, we mustn't forget the birds and our occasional squirrel visitor, as they prepare for the leaner months ahead. After discussing the possibility with my daughter of either eating the seeds ourselves or feeding our winged and furry friends with them, she kindly offered up the bounty to the critters. We took the seed head over to our old pear tree and nestled it among the branches. I'm sure this delicious autumn feast will be devoured in no time.
Nestled among the branches of the old pear tree we wondered how long it would take our avian and sciurine friends to discover their special treat
Photo: Chronica Domus
Photo: Chronica Domus
Well, that didn't take long!
A mere twenty-four hours later, the sunflower head was denuded of its seeds
A mere twenty-four hours later, the sunflower head was denuded of its seeds
Photo: Chronica Domus
Kathy's thoughtful harvest time gifts brought back memories of autumns in England, in particular those of my formative years as a student. A favorite hymn that was taught to all school-aged children was suddenly at the forefront of my mind. It begins "We plough the fields and scatter the good seed on the land...", and it was enthusiastically and joyfully belted out during early autumn when we children immersed ourselves in the preparations of the Harvest Festival.
I recall the excitement of preparing food boxes and baskets to be distributed locally to the elderly. We would take great pride in decorating brown cardboard boxes with bits of festive wrapping paper or scraps of fabric. The baskets and boxes would be filled with whatever fresh fruits, vegetables, flowers, or canned goods our parents had sent along to school with us as our contribution to the festival. Once we were all satisfied that we did our very best to make our offerings as attractive as possible, the boxes and baskets would be taken into the school's gymnasium and artfully displayed on a groaning table much like the one shown in the charming photograph below.
This image perfectly captures the essence of the Harvest Festivals I recall as a young school girl in England
The entire school would congregate for a special Harvest Festival assembly, singing and giving thanks for the bounty that was laid before us. The excitement was not over quite yet though. We each had a very important task to perform. At the conclusion of our rousing assembly, we students would file off into small groups with our teachers and walk to the neighboring houses of the elderly. It was always such an exciting moment to ring a doorbell, then wait. To us, it seemed like a lifetime until, finally, the door would open wide. Jolly septuagenarians beaming smiles, oohing and aahing, would greet us while eagerly accepting our little harvest gifts. At that moment, all was right with the world. We had played our small part in spreading a little joy to the faces of those we visited.
I leave you with an image of a recent blazing October sky, the view from our balcony that overlooks the gently rolling hills. It is not too often that we witness such dramatic color in our evening skies (billowy silver fog is more the norm) yet, somehow, it all seemed so perfectly fitting. A harvest sky at harvest time.
Photo: Chronica Domus
Do you have a particularly fond memory of this most bountiful time of the year? Please, do tell me about it.
Hello CD,
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely post - as much about generosity as harvest time.
Occasionally, in autumn, we arrive home to find a bag of persimmons on the porch - a gift from our neighbour and his plentiful tree.
Spud.
Hello Spud,
DeleteThis time of year certainly fosters a spirit of generosity what with the abundance of fresh produce available.
I'd be so pleased to come home to a bag of fruit from a neighbor friend. What, may I ask, do you do with your persimmons - eat them or display them?
While not my favourite fruit, we eat them. Next time I might try baking them into a cake - or maybe even your pudding recipe.
DeleteI thought of you and your 'blazing October sky' last night on our evening walk. We were treated to a dramatic 'pink sky at night, shepherd's delight ...'.
Spud.
Hello Spud,
DeleteYes, not my favorite fruit either. However, my daughter eats them like candy when they are in season. I'd be interested to hear how your baking experiment goes - persimmon cake, now there's an idea!
Did you know that here in America I've learned that the shepherd has been replaced with the sailor? So interesting how little songs go around the world and change locally.
A quick internet search brings up a variety of cake recipes, many of which include cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves - perfect for the season.
DeleteI knew of the 'sailor' variation of the rhyme, but not that this is the American usage. Wikipedia confirms the existence of both versions, and some others to boot.
Spud.
Now you've done it. I want to know what other versions of this little ditty exist beyond the shepherd and the sailor. Obviously, I need to go and do my research.
DeleteLove that tradition you've described with the harvest festival. We don't have anything similar here in Australia, although I'm familiar with the hymn… and the version of it from the musical Godspell, which we put on one year at school.
ReplyDeleteLovely images in the post, and if you find something tasty to do with persimmons please let me know as I'm always given a basketful by friends and never am sure what to do with them (aside from their decorative purposes!)
Hello Heidi,
DeleteI had no idea the harvest hymn I write about was included in Godspell. I must check out the music now that I know, thank you.
The only thing I've ever made with persimmons (and I used the more elongated variety), was a steamed persimmon pudding served with a lemon sauce - it was delish!
I think this may be the recipe (or one similar):
http://www.marthastewart.com/340210/steamed-persimmon-pudding
Hello CD, Persimmons are a particularly appropriate gift, since here they are a symbol of luck. They look especially appealing in your antique fruit basket.In the eastern U.S. grow small wild persimmons. The wood is very beautiful, since persimmons are actually a species of ebony.
ReplyDeleteThe area in which I grew up was formerly farmland, and we knew all the odd corners in which to find odd fruit trees or even remnants of old orchards. Sometimes this bounty was distributed in the form of jams or syrups. A favorite memory is consuming the fruit on autumn walks, selecting the most perfect 'wild' Seckel pears or sampling apple varieties of an earlier day.
--Jim
Hello Jim,
DeleteYou are a fountain of knowledge, as usual, and have taught me that persimmons are not only a symbol of luck, but a species of ebony wood, thank you. I enjoy learning tidbits of such knowledge and my mind is cluttered with these things, at least for a while, and then I forget, that is until someone comes along to jog my memory banks again.
I enjoyed the story of the farmland you grew up around. When I lived in Kent, known as "the garden of England", I spent many happy yours alongside my sisters traipsing through abandoned cherry orchards (and reaping the benefits in the summer), and also the apple orchards. We got caught scrumping apples once by a very annoyed farmer, but we had no clue the orchard was not as abandoned as the cherry ones around your house.
I'm enchanted with your memory and the fact that the harvest boxes were brought to the homes of the elderly, that's so lovely. They must have been so entirely appreciated.
ReplyDeleteHarvest time meant one thing when I was growing up: the tomato splashed roads. I grew up in southern Ontario just across the Detroit River from Michigan (about 20 miles south of Detroit). Our small town was surrounded by tomato farms and as the trucks left the farms to head to the Heinz ketchup factory two towns away from us they would spill and splash on the roads.
The roads would be paved with the crushed tomatoes for a good 10 days or so.
xo
Hello DaniBP,
DeleteHow well you write about the splashed tomato roads of your youth. I've seen them too, at the end of summer in California's central valley area.
On my very first visit to the United States when I was a girl of twelve, I stayed with my aunt who lives very close to Detroit. I recall my family and I taking a bus to Ontario and thinking how fun it was to be able to ride a bus into another country. The only way out of the United Kingdom was by ferry boat or plane in those days.
Oh, the beauty that is persimmons! Your pierced bowl is the perfect receptacle and display place---I'll bet its not the first time such lovely fruit has resided there.
ReplyDeleteA bowl of persimmons on the table was a sure sign of FALL when we lived in Mississippi, with our Brady-Bunch-orange kitchen and dining area---we had one not-too-big tree way out in the yard, and somehow it was always the first to lose its leaves when the first whisper of chill came down in the night. I think it was on purpose, in the Grand Scheme of Things, to bare those dark limbs bare, so all that magnificence could be seen in the sunshine. Those round, slick, more-golden-every-day globes of sweetness hung in the fading of the twilight, just on those days when the sky was every shade of gold and red and pink and pumpkin itself.
And the shine and glow of those rosy lanterns betwixt me and the sunset, all shining from the witchy-limbs like the most vivid of tree ornaments---such a pleasure to stand out in the dwindling light, little puffs of breath floating away in that chill, as the last rays caught the colour and whispered out.
I've never eaten a persimmon---they seem like flavorless Jello inside, but the sheer beauty of the BEING is totally enough, like hyacinths.
r
Hello racheld,
DeleteI'm so glad you like my fruit basket. I just acquired it for my collection and it was a real treat to anoint it with Kathy's gift of persimmons.
I loved reading your recollections of your Mississipi persimmon tree. There is a certain beauty to trees that hold onto their fruit once the leaves have gone, such as pomegranate and persimmon. One can appreciate the trees architecture better and it looks as though the trees are decorated for the autumn.
I included a link to my comment to Heidi (above) if you'd care to take a look at the recipe. Perhaps you may want to try it for yourself the next time you have some persimmons. Ripe ones are best for cooking otherwise they taste dry and chalky.
I love the image of the persimmons in a creamware fruit basket with the pewter pieces in the background. The contrast between light and dark is very appealing. Thank you for yet another informative and entertaining post.
ReplyDeleteHello slf,
ReplyDeleteSo kind of you to say you enjoyed the image of the persimmons tucked into their creamware basket. The dark coffee pot and sugar bowl in the background are actually made of ceramic, not pewter. They are Wedgwood black basalt pieces that form part of my ever-expanding collection. I think the burnt orange of the fruits alongside the dark basalt pieces gave a Halloween-y vibe to the picture, don't you agree?
I would not have guessed that they are black basalt pieces but how beautiful! Yes, it does have a Halloween-y vibe yet very elegant.
DeleteYes, I agree, it is rather beautiful. Basalt ware is a particular weakness of mine I'm afraid. So glad you you like it too.
DeleteCD,
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely post. I love the looks of persimmons, I've never actually eaten one. I had to chuckle that your feathered friends acceptance of the wonderful gift of sunflower seeds and made short work of the seed filled dried sunflower.
My fondest memories with regard to harvest bounty in the autumn is of my grandfathers backyard garden. My grandparents lived next door to me growing up and he was an excellent gardener. He had such wonderful vegetables and my grandmother often canned some of the items. I remember those years with such a joyful heart.
Your photograph of the sky is beautiful. I call that a Maxfield Parish sky. We get those this time of year with some regularity.
Enjoy your weekend.
xo,
Karen
Hello Karen,
DeleteHow lovely to learn that you enjoyed your grandparents' garden and all that came from it. I wish more people would consider slowing down and sewing a few vegetable and flower seeds in their gardens. I finally got my teenage daughter to actually enjoy gardening instead of seeing it as a chore - hooray!!
I think you should bite the bullet, or persimmon in this case, and make a point of trying one this autumn. However, they must be ripe otherwise they taste chalky.
Enjoy your weekend too. I'm busy fussing about the house in preparation for our dinner party tomorrow evening, the first of the season.
No particular memories, just a real enjoyment in your writing and attitude towards life. Or, Life, in upper case, as one might say.
ReplyDeleteGosh, thank you, that is most kind of you to say so, and yes always upper case when it comes to Life!
DeleteIn Seoul there's now a 50 dollar fine if you take things from a park BC the life there like squirrels are starving and resorting to going through trash now. I love persimmons and they are in season and I adore them here as they are varieties and they are great when fully ripe and like jam. I also saw this lovely bouquet of persimmon branches and the orangey gold fruit could rival any flower,
ReplyDeleteHello Naomi,
DeleteHow sad to learn that the squirrels are going hungry. Not so if I lived there. I can't help myself and always feed whatever animal comes my way. We set out so much food for the wildlife around here it is ridiculous to continue in this forum. You may very well think me quite mad!
I do well remember harvest services at school, which always made the experience of going to church slightly more interesting. Although they originate from China and Japan, I have never actually eaten persimmon; perhaps a substitute for my morning papaya, (currently) or mango usually, or pomelo occasionally. They certainly look appetising in your creamware fruit basket.
ReplyDeleteHello columnist,
DeleteI think it is time to add a persimmon to your breakfast fruit rosta. I'm certain you'll enjoy it. Now, as for pomelo, those are absolutely delicious and vie for favorite fruit status with grapefruit for me.