I don’t know about you, but food memories hold a special kind of nostalgia to me. I have a few really distinct food memories from early childhood, specifically the mint that grew beside my back door, eating mulberries under the huge black mulberry tree with my dog, and sneaking thinly sliced ham straight from the butcher’s paper, but only if it came from my friend Jack. I would blatantly declare that I did not like ham, but the ham that Jack bought was almost like a different food entirely – to my childhood whims at least.

Another favourite childhood food of mine were persimmons. The backyard of the house I grew up in had a huge persimmon tree in the bottom corner, and each Autumn we would spend an afternoon picking the persimmons to ripen in the garage and enjoy over the coming weeks. It was somewhat of a daily ritual to go and check on how they were ripening, giving each persimmon a gentle squeeze to see if they were ready for this afternoon’s snack. My grandmother grew the Fuyu variety, which needs to ripen to super soft; it becomes almost like the most delicious puree encased it it’s thin waxy skin.

I don’t know why persimmons are so under-rated here in Australia. I see them around in recipes from the US, and I know they also feature beautifully in Japanese food (Avocado and Persimmon Salad, using the firm variety, with a splash of brown rice vinegar and toasted sesame seeds… awesome). Perhaps they are just somewhat unknown. You don’t see them at the grocer much, and maybe because there are two such distinctly different varieties which look exactly the same; the ones you eat soft and the ones you eat crunchy. Maybe this is what scares people away. I guess it’s just best to know someone with a tree, or if in doubt let them ripen to fully squishy (I’ve tried this with the firm ones, and they are delicious this way too). But to cover my persimmon need I have planted one of each variety in the back garden. They’ll take a few years yet, but I’m really looking forward to weaving some romantic childhood persimmon memories into my own children’s hearts.

I had to seek out a recipe for persimmons as up until a few weeks ago I had never actually used them in a recipe; I guess they were so good on their own that they had never lasted that long!

My husband says this cake reminds him of Pfeffernusse – those delicious German spice biscuits with the crunchy white tops, it has a gentle spicing and aroma of persimmon; total afternoon tea material.

Maple Spiced Persimmon Bundt Cake

adapted from Desserts for Breakfast, who adapted from Tartine (I love it how people make things their own)

pulp from 3 very soft persimmons (around 300g)
1/2 cup maple syrup
150g sugar
280g plain flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon mixed spice
pinch of salt
1 teaspoon vanilla paste
250ml grape seed oil
3 eggs
maple syrup and yoghurt or sour cream to serve

Preheat oven to 180 degrees C. Grease and flour a 6-cup bundt tin and set aside.

Puree the pulp from your persimmons (discarding any skin or seeds) in a blender or food processor until smooth. Set aside.

In a bowl, combine your flour, baking powder, salt and spices and give a little whisk.

In another bowl, whisk the persimmon puree, oil, sugar, maple syrup and vanilla until they are homogenous. Add in your eggs one at a time, whisking each one in well before adding the next. Now gently mix through the flour mixture until just combined.

Pour the cake mixture into your prepared bundt tin and bake for 50 or so minutes, or until a skewer inserted into the cake comes out clean.

Remove from the oven and allow the cake to cool in the tin for 10 mins, then invert onto a wire rack to cool completely.

I served my cake for afternoon tea with dollops of greek yoghurt and a drizzle of maple syrup, and just for a bit more persimmon love, some wedges of the firm variety.