Now
One year later and I've written nothing, except for a daily letter to nobody to state some small areas of gratitude, like 'I'm healthy', or 'I have a lot of cats'.
My interest in anything culinary waned, except for a pressing need to eat as much bread, chocolate, and ice cream as I could in any 24 hour period, which included the 3 am call for sugar to quiet the voices of the 'bad people' who love to visit in the middle of the night to tell you what a loser you are. Try this tactic if they're bothering you. You might wake up hung-over, with the idea of breakfast completely unappealing just as if you'd been drinking vodka all night, a pastime I'm familiar with. You will save money on Grape Nuts though.
I have a thing I call 'The Irish News' which is all about indulging in anything negative, dark, scary, or depressing. I'm well suited to report this news since the family name was Fitzgerald, which tells you all you need to know about my state of mind and my lousy attitude. I have a standing phone date on Sundays with my sister in New York, and it takes us five minutes or less to start into it...who got cancer/was hit by a bus/was particularly mean to us/ didn't wear a mask/ got really fat. We gleefully lower ourselves into this morass of negativity and drama, we laugh our heads off and somehow are energized and uplifted by all the terrible stories. It's as Irish as Paddy's pig. Of course this last year has provided ample fuel for these talks. We needn't be creative in drumming up stories of disaster. All we had to do was read the New York Times. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Now it looks like we're turning a corner in this surreal year of virtual contact and online grocery shopping. People are looking forward to hugging, or holding hands, or going for coffee and drinking it inside a pretty cafe. All I really look forward to is choosing my own tomatoes. The idea of entering a supermarket and taking my time picking out the ripest reddest tomatoes...actually touching them...maybe even sniffing...this will be a thrilling event for me. It might even be scary. I'm a bit scared of everything now. Aren't you?
My friend Walter has a great story he tells, of ancient Chinese origin, and it bears retelling here. A farmer in the Tang dynasty was tending his rice field. The farmers in his province had come out of a terrible period of drought, and were protective of their crops. Fear ran high, and with each rain they worried it might be the last. He worked from dawn til dusk and one day looked over his crop and exclaimed with delight “GOOD RICE! Thank you God!” As soon as those words left his mouth, he was gripped with fear. The arrogance! The nerve! The danger! He ran out into his field and looked up to the heavens shouting 'BAD RICE! BAD RICE!’
So I meditate away the fear and the expectation. I take the bag of hard green tomatoes, and soft wrinkled cucumbers left at my door, and I make do. Last month I tried a new company that promised beautiful produce for half the price. What I got was a box of enormous carrots, like something out of science fiction, and tiny limes containing no discernible juice. Sitting at the bottom though were 4 persimmons, unripe, but lovely. There's no way to ripen this fruit except for waiting. Last week they were finally soft and ready, and somehow this gave me a deep feeling that nature was taking care of everything.
I made a concoction with the persimmons that was both celebratory of the season and affirming of the promise of a new kind of life. It will never be just like the old one, but a beautiful sauce is enough for now. This recipe is very simple to make, and the color of the stuff reminds me of the dawn sky in Los Angeles, which I am grateful to wake up to every day.
Persimmon Lemon Curd
flesh of 3 ripe large persimmons
juice of 4 lemons
3 egg yolks plus 1 whole egg
¾ cup sugar
4 tablespoons good butter
pinch of salt
The most important thing is to use fully ripe persimmons. They should be mushy to the touch. Lop off the leaves at the top, and after washing, put the bodies in a food processor. Leave the skin on...it's very thin and will disappear in the mixing. Add the juice of the lemons and the egg yolks and whole egg. Add sugar and salt...blend all. Create a double boiler by setting a bowl in simmering hot water over a low heat. In that bowl put the contents of your processor. Whisk constantly and don't walk away. No phone calls/texts/bathroom visits allowed. In 8-10 minutes of constant whisking you will see your mixture has thickened. Immediately take the bowl off the hot water, set on the counter, and whisk in your butter, a little at a time. This serves to enrich the curd and also cool it down slightly. After you’ve added the butter put the bowl in the refrigerator with some plastic wrap on the top to prevent a skin from forming. You will see that the curd thickens as it cools and becomes a rich kind of jam perfect on toast or scones or ice cream in the middle of the night.