“What do you think of this recipe to use up those persimmons we found at the Food Bank?”
Danny handed me his phone. I put my book down on my lap to take a look at the recipe he proferred to me.
Persimmon walnut bread. Okay, I’m interested.
Hmm. Let’s see. New York Times cooking app. That’s a good start. I trust them.
Martha Rose Shulman? Yes. She always creates something reliably delicious.
“Oh look!” I told Danny. “She says that Deborah Madison helped her to make this recipe better. Let me read this to you. ‘According to Deborah Madison, persimmons contain enzymes that will react with the flour and prevent the bread from having a nice crumb, so you must first neutralize them by stirring baking soda into the purée. This also causes the purée to become gelatinous, but the gelatinous mash is easy to break up with a whisk and will dissolve when added to the batter.’”
We reminisced about the time we had lunch with Deborah Madison at Sitka and Spruce, years ago now. (One of my favorite restaurants in the world. Closed now.) The two of them connected deeply about what it was like to work in restaurants. I’ve always loved her food knowledge and joy. That day I learned she was fierce and funny. She made us both laugh.
“Hey, that makes me think,” I told Danny. “She said the puree becomes gelatinous, but you break it up. What if we added sweet rice flour to the puree too? That might thicken the puree. And since sweet rice flour acts like a weaker form of gluten, it might help if we let it sit for a bit.”
Danny thought about it, then said, “Let’s try it. Maybe try a bit of psyllium powder in there too.”
I started getting excited about this idea. “We’ll use that non-dairy yogurt you like. And hey, instead of making the recipe again, we can do the same thing with applesauce or pumpkin puree. We can’t go to the store and get another 2 pounds of persimmons, the way we used to do. But if we try it with other purees, same treatment, we can let people know those versions work.”
Danny sat up, excited, then leaned toward me on the couch. “You know that date-cranberry chutney I made for the staff party? The persimmon bread, with that truffle goat cheese we got at the food bank, on top, and that chutney?”
I leaned toward him and tapped him on the hand. “That! Let’s make that. Oh, I’m hungry now.”
We looked at each other and giggled a little. This little frisson of delicious excitement, minds working, bantering back and forth together?
“Danny!” I nearly shouted. “Look at us! I think we’re back.”
He smiled. I smiled.
It had been 5 years since we had danced like this, back and forth, more than 2 people, a third being created between us, one full of curiosity, creativity, and joy.
That was a hellishly long 5 years. But they’re done now.
We’re back.
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