The
fruits from this variety are almost like apples.

When they are barely
turning orange you bite into them they are sweet and crunchy just like
apples. As they ripen they get softer and sweeter. They turn a flaming
red by the time they are fully ripe.
My
father had a passion
for planting fruit trees, grapes and such. I remember
the first persimmon tree of the fuyu variety he planted when I was
about 12 years old. He was so excited when he brought home the small
tree; I believe they were not so readily available at the time where we
lived.
We
had an abundance of the round
ones that made you pucker when they weren't ripe, but they
were delicious when they were soft and ripe. We used to get
those from my great aunt Carminella.
Zia
Carminella had several
trees down by her barns, which was close to one of the elementary
classes. Our schoolhouse wasn't
large enough to accommodate all the classes
so they rented one of Zia Carminella's rooms.


When the kids got out of school they climbed the trees to get the fruits and broke branches and
make huge messes. The poor woman had a constant aggravation when
persimmons were in season. I remember she walked to our house
with large baskets full of persimmons. Then she sat with her sister (my
grandmother) and complained about the monelli (misbehaving kids) who
were ruining her trees. She always said she knew it wasn't my brothers
and I climbing her trees because we were shy. She was partly right; the
other part had to do with my parents' "do it and die" motto.
Well,
Zia Carminella lives in the city (a Cassino) with her daughter now; she
is going on 95 bless her heart! I love to visit her every time I go to
Italy because she was a good aunt who loved and watched out for
everybody. The last time I visited her I asked her if she remembered
all the baskets of persimmons she carried to our house all those years.
I left her with a big smile on her face.
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