Making a case for quince, persimmon

“Let’s go quince picking!”

“Well you know it wouldn’t be the hol­i­days with­out a per­sim­mon pie!”

Alright, so I doubt you know any­one who has ever said that. Nor do I. But some­times I do won­der why other deli­cious autum­nal fruits are given no share of apples’ spot­light. With the cur­rent trends in the culi­nary world of mak­ing “weird” ingre­di­ents main­stream, I hope these two fruits will be able to build a fan base. If you are think­ing of plant­ing a few fruit trees, at least con­sider includ­ing the under­rated quince and the oft-forgotten persimmon.

Per­sim­mons are a large berry that grow on trees. Amer­i­can Per­sim­mon or Diospy­ros vir­gini­ana grow wild in much of the United States but have been cul­ti­vated for thou­sands of years. Native Amer­i­cans grew them for their beau­ti­ful and del­i­cate wood, and even­tu­ally began to enjoy the fruit. Per­sim­mon is in the Ebe­naceae fam­ily and is con­sid­ered to be an ebony wood. Because this wood is so unique and strik­ing it has long been prized in fine woodworking—ornate fur­ni­ture, mill­work, pool cues, and for a long time was the prime selec­tion for the shaft of golf club. The rea­son dri­vers are called ‘woods’ is before the shafts were made of light­weight metal, they were made of light­weight per­sim­mon wood. Inter­est­ingly, when Tay­lor­Made released their first metal-shafted golf club it was called a “Pitts­burgh Per­sim­mon.” Per­sim­mon trees ulti­mately grow to be about 30–50 feet tall and make an attrac­tive addi­tion to an orchard. They grow ele­gantly with a slim trunk and spindle-like branches.

There are a few rea­sons per­haps per­sim­mons have fallen from vogue — the first is they require a great deal of patience. Usu­ally a per­sim­mon tree will not fruit for eight years, with full pro­duc­tion not until 15 years. Another likely rea­son is the short win­dow of time to enjoy them. Per­sim­mon har­vest is not until late Octo­ber and through Novem­ber. Because the fruit is so high in sugar and sol­u­ble tan­nins, they can taste unpalat­ably astrin­gent and acidic. They also have sort of a “furry” tex­ture. All of that changes after a few hard frosts. Before the hard frosts the fruit is a lighter golden color, whereas after­ward it becomes a rich golden-orange with blushes of red. “Per­sim­mon” is often assigned to fab­ric and paint col­ors that share this rich and allur­ing hue. Also, the fla­vor begins to mel­low and the sweet­ness pre­vails over the tart. Once truly ripened (which can take well into Decem­ber) these fruits can be baked into pies, turned into jel­lies, or sim­ply enjoyed raw. Because of the high level of nat­ural sugar in per­sim­mon, they are often called “sugar plums.” So they are in fact woven into hol­i­day folk­lore. I am excited to say that I have even seen per­sim­mons at the gro­cery store this year.

Another desir­able fea­ture of a per­sim­mon tree is they will often grow where other fruit trees would not. They tol­er­ate wet feet extra­or­di­nar­ily well and are often found grow­ing wild among river­banks. They are absolutely cold hardy and do not require any cov­er­ing through the win­ter as some other fruit trees do. They are pol­li­nated by insects and wind, so it would be best to plant at least two.

The other fruit I would like to make a case for is quince. Quince (Cydo­nia oblonga) is a deli­cious fruit with an extra­or­di­nary fla­vor that I would best describe as a mix between an apple and a lemon. Intense but sweet, often just a table­spoon of quince jam is added to apple pie to enhance the apple fla­vor. Quince also has a very rich his­tory. It is even the­o­rized the fruit that tempted Eve was not an apple, but a quince. Quince are native to the Mid­dle East and Mediter­ranean and have actu­ally been cul­ti­vated longer than apples. The word mar­malade, which is a sweet sauce of cooked fruit, comes from the Por­tuguese word ‘marmelo’ which orig­i­nally meant specif­i­cally quince jam. Quince were cul­ti­vated and trea­sured by ancient Greeks as well. Accord­ing to leg­end, Aphrodite held quince in a sacred regard and it was a tra­di­tional offer­ing at wed­dings; the aro­matic fruit was said to per­fume the kiss of the bride. Quince were also a com­mon addi­tion to colo­nial Amer­i­can orchards.

Quince are self-fruitful but pro­duc­tion can be enhanced by pol­li­na­tion. They are cold hardy here in our grow­ing zone, and require a period of cold to suc­cess­fully pro­duce. Unlike the per­sim­mon, quince must be har­vested before the first frost like their apple cousins. Quince are excep­tional addi­tions to any cui­sine. They make mem­o­rably fla­vor­ful pies and addi­tions to cakes. Because they have such high lev­els of pectin and a strong and dis­tinct fla­vor, quince is often com­bined with other fruits like apple, black­berry or even straw­ber­ries to make exquis­ite and uncom­mon jams and jellies.

So with hol­i­day bak­ing and enter­tain­ing in full swing, con­sider try­ing some­thing new with one of these delight­ful and often under-appreciated fruits.

Stephen Jones is an OSU Exten­sion Mas­ter Gar­dener volunteer.

Posted by Master Gardener on Nov 23 2012. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS Feed. Comments can be made below.