I have often extolled the wonders of wild edibles in Alaska, including the plethora of berries that come out in the spring and summer, the sea asparagus that covers the beaches in June, and novelties such as Hudson Bay tea, delicious and nutritious in moderation. I had forgotten, however, that central Virginia has its share of hardy volunteers. Having recently made a visit during September and October, my husband and I rediscovered paw-paws, persimmons, and black walnuts, all of which ripen in the fall.
The humble paw-paw grows close to water sources, in my case the River. The fruits are oblong, smallish, and remain green throughout their careers, so it’s easy to walk among a big bunch of them and not notice. If you are looking for them, though, they will suddenly start popping out into your field of vision, and you’ll see them all around you. Having used paw-paws purely as ammunition against marauding cousins and siblings as a child, I, as an adult, became intrigued by the concept that they are, in fact, food. On my recent visit, I put one into a paper bag with an apple until is was nice and soft, and then gave it a try. Having been warned (online) not to eat the seeds or the peel, I was able to sort of slurp out the soft fruit and found it delicious. It tasted a little bit like a sweet banana, with the consistency of a very soft avocado (sans the nasty fibers). It seemed to me like a ready-made smoothie or pudding.
Persimmons: we have one very tall tree near our house, and several smaller ones vying for sunlight out by the entrance to the driveway. (The plan is for our next visit we will cut down the competing trees so that the persimmons can thrive). I was there before the first frost (I have always been told that persimmons ripen after frost and I have bitter experience trying to eat a green one), but the persimmon I picked up was soft and a nice shade of peach, so I tried it. It was tasty, with only the slightest trace of that dry-throat-chokey thing that a green persimmon brings to the table.
And third but not least is the hardy black walnut. We have a cluster of about ten trees down near the river, and in the autumn, one needs to take care when walking under them, because the walnuts start falling; and from the considerable height of the tree they can build up enough of a head of steam to really give you a good whack on the pate. Now, a black walnut is reluctant to give up its treasures. First, you have to get rid of the husk, which can be accomplished by placing them in the driveway for the cars to run over. You can also let them sit for a few days, and then grind each husk off with the sole of a shoe. Once you get them out of the husk, there remains the shell. This can only be breached by mechanical means such as a hammer or a vice. So, while you will enjoy your black walnuts, you will also have to work for them. Just try not to miss and hit your thumb.
I do have some regret at missing out on the Virginia blackberries (thinking of my mother’s blackberry cobbler and slobbering a blue streak; you’d be picking seeds from your teeth for an hour afterwards, but it was completely worth it), but not quite enough to show up down there in the height of summer. Southeast Alaska has a legion of delectable summer berries, the weather is better, and the berries themselves are not defended by murderous thorns. My next visit to Virginia will be in the spring, and maybe then I will rediscover some more forgotten delicacies.
More stuff to read:
Pawpaw: Small Tree, Big Impact (U.S. National Park Service) (nps.gov)
What Is a Persimmon and What Does It Taste Like? | MyRecipes
Guide to Black Walnuts: How to Harvest, Store, Crack, and Cook (foragerchef.com)