Spiced Persimmon Bread | Love and Olive Oil

Moist and flavorful and perfectly spiced, this persimmon quick bread is made with extra ripe Hachiya persimmons for a unique fall bake that can be enjoyed morning, afternoon or night!

Everyone is familiar with banana bread and pumpkin bread, but have you ever had persimmon bread? It might taste a little like you snuck a banana into a loaf of pumpkin bread, but the unique autumnal flavor of persimmon plays beautifully with seasonal fall spices (dare I say that persimmon spice is the new pumpkin spice?)

Would you believe I’ve been working on this recipe for 5 years?

Indeed, it’s hard to test a recipe whose star ingredient is only available a few weeks every year (and can sometimes take a few weeks to fully ripen at that).

For the past 5 years, I’d buy a dozen persimmons as soon as they appeared in the grocery store, then wait patiently for them to ripen to be baked into lush, fragrant persimmon bread. Unfortunately, by the time I’d baked them all into loaf after loaf of good-but-still-not-perfect persimmon bread, the short season would be over and I could not get any more for further tests. So I would dog-ear that page in my recipe notebook to try again the next year. And the next… and the next… and, well, now you see why it’s been 5 years!

So why has this recipe been so difficult to develop? I mean, there’s no shortage of persimmon bread recipes out there on the internet already (and believe me I looked at all of them).

The problem I kept running into was that no matter how delicious the bread tasted (and luckily every single test loaf was delicious and devoured, never wasted), it simply refused to rise into the nice peak that characterizes most loaf cakes and quick breads. The other internet recipes seemed to show flatter than usual loaves as well, so I knew it was an issue with the persimmons themselves rather than my recipe in particular (I’m just the only one obsessive enough to keep trying to make it better, I guess).

I wanted that peak, gosh darnit!

So I kept testing.

Eventually I switched to making mini loaves so I could test multiple variables without going through my entire stash of persimmons (fun fact, these mini loaf pans are exactly 1/3 of a standard loaf!) Although my brain practically expired from all the math, I managed to experiment with a number of different variables including different kinds of persimmons, adding various thickeners and stabilizers, as well as reducing and thickening the persimmon itself.

What I ultimately landed on, the solution that gave me the perfect loaf peak and gorgeous crevice, was not unlike what my equally tricky-to-develop persimmon pie needed: a little reduction. By simmering the persimmon with some added tapioca starch (or cornstarch), the excess moisture is partially evaporated off while the rest is bound with the starch, making the persimmon puree more akin to pumpkin puree in terms of moisture and starch content.

I also pre-treated the persimmon with baking soda, which, if you’ve never done it before is a bizarre and baffling science experiment: 5 minutes after whisking the baking soda into the persimmon puree, the entire bowl ‘gels’ like custard. It’s seriously weird.

It’s the baking soda treatment PLUS the reduction/thickening with starch that ultimately allows us to achieve the perfect peak without losing flavor or moisture in the final bread.

Why? Well, I think it comes down to the fact that “persimmons contain enzymes that will react with the flour… so you must first neutralize them by stirring baking soda into the purée.” (source: Deborah Madison via the New York Times). While my recipe doesn’t look anything like the NYT recipe, that little snippet of information really helped in my testing process!

Interestingly, the addition of baking soda will make the persimmon puree darker in color when heated, so the final loaf is noticeably more brown and less orange than identical loaves made without the baking soda step. The untreated loaves also had a very different flavor profile, more flat and less… interesting… I guess I would describe it, with a slightly dryer crumb. Who would have guessed that a measly 1/4 teaspoon of baking soda and 5 minutes of time would make such a huge difference in the final bake? I still don’t fully understand the science behind it, all I know is it works miracles, and I finally achieved the perfect persimmon loaf of my dreams!

The result of five years of effort, this persimmon quick bread is so much more interesting than regular old banana or pumpkin bread, though you might think that’s what you’re eating if you didn’t know any better. Like it doesn’t exactly taste like pumpkin… but it doesn’t NOT taste like pumpkin either, if that makes any sense? Persimmons aren’t easy to describe, that’s for sure, with notes of pumpkin, honey, apricot, and yes, a little banana in there too, and those flavors get carried over into the final quick bread for a truly spectacular result.

I know persimmons may seem like a summery fruit, but you’d be wrong—peak persimmon season is in late-November and December. And the autumnal nature of the persimmon extends to their flavor companions as well, pairing flawlessly with fall spices like cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg.

Dare I say that persimmon spice is the new pumpkin spice?

You’ll see that other than the extra steps with the persimmon mixture, the batter comes together much like any other quick bread recipe (no mixer required!)

One pro tip I learned during this process (and the reason the photos above are missing a step or two):

When making quick breads, always add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients, not the other way around. Adding dry to wet makes it very hard to fully mix in the flour (you’ll either overmix the batter or end up with pockets of unmixed flour in your loaf).

You’d think after so many tests I would have learned this truth sooner, but alas, the process photos I took were from one of the reject loaves where I mixed in the ingredients in a different order, so I opted not to include them to avoid confusion. When/if I make this again (although I’m ready for a break after 20+ loaves over the years), I’ll try to add the missing process photo, but for now, just trust me and follow the recipe directions in the right order!

Fuyu vs Hachiya persimmons

Hachiya persimmons are distinguished by their oblong shape (see below, right), wheras Fuyus look like squat, orange tomatoes (below, left). The main difference, other than appearance, is that fuyu persimmons can be enjoyed before they fully ripen (they have a lovely apple-like texture that is beautiful in a seasonal salad or sauteed with green beans!) On the other hand, hachiya persimmons must be fully ripe, and I mean feels-like-a-water-balloon ripe. If eaten too soon, they are incredibly bitter and astringent and not enjoyable at all.

Will this recipe work with Fuyus? Technically, yes. However, I will say that in my numerous tests, the fuyu persimmons just weren’t as good when baked into bread. The flavor was more one-dimensional, whereas the hachiya persimmons produced a beautifully complex and well rounded depth of flavor that was simply unmatched.

I imagine you could also use wild/native persimmons if you’re lucky enough to have access to them (color me jealous!) though please report back and let me know how this recipe worked for you if so!

You’ll know when your hachiya persimmons are ripe when they feel like water balloons about to burst. I know, it sounds scary (if I had a tomato that felt like that I’d be afraid for my life), but that’s really what you’re looking for here. Under-ripe hachiya persimmons are definitely not good eats.

Since hachiya persimmons can take a few weeks to fully ripen (place them in a paper bag with an apple to speed up the process!) Since it’s unlikely that they’ll all reach peak ripeness at the same time, I like to freeze them one at a time as soon as they reach full ripeness (skin and all, just pop ’em right in the freezer whole!) Then, when I’m ready to bake, I take out whatever number I need for the recipe—3 in this case—and let them thaw overnight in the fridge (set them in a sieve set over a bowl to catch any leaky juices).

The freezing also takes care of any lingering astringency if your persimmons were even a tiny bit less than perfectly ripe, so I recommend freezing them for at least 24 hours regardless of when you’ll actually be baking with them. But you can keep them in the freezer for up to 6 months if necessary.

To glaze or not to glaze

That is indeed the question. Usually I default to glazing, almost always, but in this case I really wanted the persimmons to shine, so opted to leave it off of the final loaf.

But in my numerous rounds of testing I did find that a simple powdered sugar and brandy glaze, or powdered sugar mixed with a little leftover persimmon puree, made a lovely glaze for this loaf to add an extra hit of sweetness.

If you prefer your quick breads to have a bit of crunch and textural contrast, you could also definitely add mix-ins like nuts, or even some chopped still-firm Fuyu persimmons or dried persimmons. (Better yet, rehydrate some of those dried persimmons in a splash of brandy to make it extra, extra special!)

I have a feeling that persimmons are only going to be more popular in the years to come, if the traffic to my persimmon pie recipe is any indication. I know it’s quickly becoming one of my favorite fruits to use in recipes, and now that this recipe is (finally!) in the bag, you can definitely expect more persimmon recipes here in the future!