Persimmon Pudding with Toffee Sauce

At this time of year persimmons are dangling on bare tree branches, like lanterns or brilliant pendant earrings. I've had the pleasure of eating two types of persimmons, the squatter, crispy type ("Fuyu") and the heart-shaped, soft-fleshed type ("Hachiya").

A Hachiya persimmon. My parents ripen them on the windowsill, bottoms up.

The sweet bounty of persimmons in winter sometimes poses a conundrum - what to do with all these orange beauties ripening into softness at the same time? Since only my dad and I eat the Hachiya persimmon (my mom ONLY eats crisp fruit, so no papayas, bananas, or Hachiyas for her), something had to be done about all our extra ripe persimmons. Hence this recipe, which I baked for our family Christmas Eve dinner. Persimmons really do not have a strong flavor (except for their tannins, and that is only when they're not fully ripe) so this recipe yields a very English plummy-pudding cake. With toffee sauce drizzled on top, it's a sweet, festive end to a holiday meal.

For the Pudding

2 Cups Persimmon Pulp

1 3/4 Cups Sugar

2 Egg

4 Tbs. Melted Butter

2 Cup Milk

2 Cup Flour

3 Tsp. Baking Soda

1 Tsp. Cinnamon

1 Tsp. Salt

1 Cup Golden Raisins
3/4 Cup Chopped Pitted Dates

1 Cup Nuts

Preheat oven to 325 degees. Grease a bundt pan.
Mix sugar, pulp, egg, melted butter and milk.
In separate bowl, combine flour, cinnamon, baking soda, and salt.
Gradually add pulp mixture, mixing well.
Dust raisins, dates, and nuts with flour to keep them from sinking to bottom; add them to mixture.
Pour into bundt pan and bake at 325 degrees for 50 to 60 minutes.

For the Sauce

2 Cups Brown Sugar
1 Cup Heavy Cream
1/2 Cup Butter (1 stick)
1/4 Tsp. Salt

Combine ingredients in a saucepan over medium heat. Cook, stirring, until mixture is beginning to caramelize. Remove from heat and cool. Drizzle lavishly over pudding.

This would be lovely served with vanilla ice-cream!

Daring Bakers: Castle von Gummi

Castle von Gummi is situated on a plateau atop a high mountain. Its walls, though roughly hewn, have never given way to enemy attack. An impregnable stronghold, it has served as a seat of power for time out of mind.

The crest of the von Gummi royal family decorates the castle walls. The current king, Friedrich von Gummi, has lately been troubled by a rebellious faction, the Trolli. Longtime separatists, they see Friedrich's reluctance for war as an opportunity for attack.

But inside, von Gummi's warriors are ready. Catapults and ammunition are ready.

Lookouts are posted in every watchtower.

Outside the protection of the castle walls, El Capitán Haribo waits for the Trolli's onslaught. Once a marauder, he threw his lot in with the von Gummi family for reasons known only to himself. His fearlessness inspires unwavering loyalty and bravery amongst the von Gummi soldiers.

The alarm is sounded! There is a rush inside the walls for final preparations.

The Trolli forces have brought a battering ram! Their hugest warriors bear it upon their shoulders, shouting, "Death to the Gummi! Death to Haribo!"

El Capitán Haribo stands his ground, unblanching.

The Gummi forces wait their Captain's signal.

Trolli troops have set their catapults.

But the Gummis strike first!

Wounded Trollis litter the field.

The battering ram warriors face this formidable sight through the portcullis.

Who will win this battle? Will Friedrich keep his crown? Will El Capitán Haribo prevail?


The December 2009 Daring Bakers’ challenge was brought to you by Anna of Very Small Anna and Y of Lemonpi. They chose to challenge Daring Bakers’ everywhere to bake and assemble a gingerbread house from scratch. They chose recipes from Good Housekeeping and from The Great Scandinavian Baking Book as the challenge recipes.

I used Y's Scandanavian recipe, with strange results... I think later there was an amendment to the recipe, using less flour. As it is, my castle walls are lighter in color than normal gingerbread and more bread-like in texture. Warping was also a problem. Ah well, I just say that bears aren't the best architects and, well, their castle IS made out of mountain stone.

Der Weihnachtsmarkt : The Christmas Market

With the beginning of Advent, Christmas markets all over Germany open. In plazas and squares, bakers and crafters and artists set up shop. Heidelberg hosts several markets in four separate squares in the old city, and it is really lovely and picturesque.

This stand is selling traditional Nutcrackers and wooden ornaments.

Of course there are Lebkuchen (gingerbread) and candy sellers everywhere.

Besides from Christmas fare, there are also beautiful crafts for sale, like this lovely pottery.

This brilliantly lit shop is selling Glühwein, a spiced mulled-wine that's only drunk at this time of year.
It is powerful stuff! I like the taste, but, really, I should stay far away from it!

This man is carving a wooden bowl. His shop sells all sorts of wooden

serving platters as well as stools and tables - all hand carved by him!

This is the bowl and ladle I bought from him. I love it that I know

who made this and that I can see his knife patterns all over the bowl.

I wish that the States had more of a market culture. Sure, there are farmers markets and craft markets, especially in large cities, like New York, but we're still much more dependent on Target and supermarkets. Not that I don't love Target! But, there is lots to be said about buying direct from a grower or crafter or artist and enjoying the walk around a city square.

What Does She Do All Day?

I thought I'd dedicate a post to describing my daily life here, in case you're curious. Other than baking and knitting and sniffing perfumes and daydreaming about travel, I lead the life of a monk! I spend my days shut up in my fourth story apartment in Germany, straining my eyes and brain to read ancient texts. Fits the bill, right? Here's a passage I love that I read recently, from Plato's dialogue Crito. Socrates is in jail and has been condemned to death, and his friend, Crito, has been urging him to escape by night. After a lengthy debate, Socrates ends his argument against fleeing from death by saying this:

ταῦτα, ὦ φίλε ἑταῖρε Κρίτων, εὖ ἴσθι ὅτι ἐγὼ δοκῶ ἀκούειν, ὥσπερ οἱ κορυβαντιῶντες τῶν αὐλῶν δοκοῦσιν ἀκούειν, καὶ ἐν ἐμοὶ αὕτη ἡ ἠχὴ τούτων τῶν λόγων βομβεῖ καὶ ποιεῖ μὴ δύνασθαι τῶν ἄλλων ἀκούειν· ἀλλὰ ἴσθι, ὅσα γε τὰ νῦν ἐμοὶ δοκοῦντα, ἐὰν λέγῃς παρὰ ταῦτα, μάτην ἐρεῖς.

Know well, dear friend Crito, that I seem to hear these arguments, just as the frenzied worshipers of Cybele seem to hear the flutes, and the sound of these words resounds and makes me unable to hear any other. So know that so far do they seem right to me that if you should say anything besides them, you will speak in vain.

My monk's cell. It is a lovely view, though.

It was cold and foggy today - I love to watch the clouds
roll down the hills of the Philosophenweg.

Surrounding myself with things I like to look at and touch helps the tedium!
As you can see, I have a ring obsession.

Not much on the calendar. Oddly enough, that hourglass only
runs for about 45 minutes. Hmm. And more rings. From Israel!

One of my favoritest things in my study - I bought this in Japantown, SF.
Leave it to the Japanese to create the worlds smallest colored-pencil box.
I use it to sketch out knitting projects, so I can visualize color combinations.