Let Me Tell You About This Persimmon Bread (And the Time My Cat Tried to Eat It)

Alright, real talk: Persimmon bread is that underrated hero of fall baking. I started making this a few years back when my neighbor (bless her heart) handed me a sack of persimmons that I had no idea what to do with—other than just stare at them and wonder, do these get eaten like apples? Spoiler: no, don't do that unless you like a mouth full of fuzz. Anyway, after one crumbly disaster and a loaf that my cat literally tried to steal off the counter (he has zero respect for personal space), I finally landed on a recipe that honestly makes my kitchen smell like autumn in a good way, not the kind you spray from a can.

Why You'll Love This (Or At Least Why I Keep Making It)

I pull out this recipe whenever the leaves start changing and I want to feel like I've got my life together, even if I'm still in pajamas at 4pm. My family goes nuts for this bread—mainly because it's so moist (ugh, that word) and packed with cinnamon and just enough sweetness. It's the kind of thing I make when I've forgotten to buy snacks for my kid's friends, or when I want to pretend like I'm the sort of person who always has fresh baked goods on hand. Also, I used to dread peeling persimmons, but if you let them sit until a bit squishy, the skin almost falls off (just don't actually throw it, unless you want to clean orange goo off your wall).

What You'll Need (With a Few Cheeky Substitutions)

2 cups persimmon pulp (about 4 ripe Hachiya persimmons—fuyu works too, but the texture's a bit different. Honestly, I've even thrown in a little applesauce when I was short a persimmon and no one noticed)
1 ½ cups all-purpose flour (swapped in whole wheat once, but it was...dense. Go half and half if you must)
1 cup sugar (brown sugar if you want extra depth, or halve it for a less sweet loaf—my aunt claims it's better that way but I disagree)
½ cup unsalted butter, melted (my grandma used margarine, but I just can't)
2 eggs (room temp is ideal, but when I'm rushed, straight form the fridge goes in)
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon cinnamon (sometimes I go wild and add a pinch of nutmeg—do what feels right)
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (homemade if you're extra, store brand is fine too)
¾ cup chopped walnuts or pecans (or none if you're nut-averse; chocolate chips are a fun switch-up)
Optional: a handful of raisins (I know, controversial)

How I Make It (And How You Can Too)

Preheat the oven to 350°F (about 180°C). Grease up a loaf pan—if I can't find my spray, I just smear some butter on with a paper towel. Works just fine.
Scoop the persimmon pulp into a bowl. If you notice any seeds, fish 'em out (I always miss one, and it's a crunchy surprise every time). Mash until smooth-ish; a few lumps are honestly fine.
In another bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt. Sometimes I get lazy and dump it all in together—hasn’t made a huge difference.
Mix in the eggs, melted butter, and vanilla into the persimmon mush. Stir until it looks like something you want to eat (or at least taste-test at this stage—guilty!).
Now, combine the wet and dry mixes. Stir gently; don't overdo it, or the bread will get tough (I learned the hard way—think doorstop, not dessert).
Fold in your nuts, raisins, or whatever mix-ins you fancy. I once tried dried cranberries and…nah, stick with nuts or chocolate.
Pour the batter into your pan. If you want to get fancy, sprinkle some extra nuts on top, or even a pinch of cinnamon sugar.
Bake for 45-55 minutes. Start checking around 45—stick a toothpick in the center. If it comes out mostly clean (a few moist crumbs are okay), you’re golden.
Let it cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a rack. Or, if you're like me, cut a slice while it's still warm and risk crumbling—worth it every time.

Notes No One Tells You (But I Will)

If your persimmons seem stubborn, zap them in the microwave for 15 seconds. They let go of their skins way easier. Ask me how I know.
I've tried making this with gluten-free flour, and it works...kind of. Texture's a bit different, but still tasty if you need it.
Actually, I find the flavor deepens overnight. But if you eat it warm with butter, you’ll understand why it rarely lasts that long.

Stuff I Tried That (Mostly) Worked

Adding cardamom: came out super fragrant, but a little goes a long way.
Swapping half the flour for almond meal: made for a denser, nuttier loaf. Pretty good, but not everyone loved it.
Coconut flakes: eh, not my favorite. Felt like I was eating a tropical fruitcake.

Do You Need Fancy Equipment? Not Really

I always say a good loaf pan helps, but honestly, I've used a cake tin in a pinch. Just check it a bit sooner as it might cook faster. And if you don't have an electric mixer? No worries. Give it a good stir with a wooden spoon and call it a day.

How to Keep It Fresh (Or Not, Since It Disappears Fast)

I've read you can store this tightly wrapped at room temp for up to 3 days, but honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day! If you somehow have leftovers (miracle), wrap slices in foil and freeze. They thaw surprisingly well.

How We Serve It (Your Way Might Be Better)

I like mine warmed up with a bit of butter (sometimes, I'll even go rogue and add cream cheese). My kid dunks it in hot cocoa, which is odd but hey, who am I to judge? Around Thanksgiving, I’ll serve slices with a dollop of spiced whipped cream just to make it feel extra festive.

Random Pro Tips I’ve Learned the Hard Way

Don’t rush the cooling! I once tried slicing it straight from the oven—ended up with something closer to bread pudding.
If you use underripe persimmons, it tastes...off. Wait till they’re super soft—even if you’re impatient like me.
Actually, using parchment in the pan makes cleanup a breeze. I used to skip it, but then I got tired of chiseling stuck-on loaf bits.

FAQ (Because People Always Ask)

Can I use Fuyu persimmons instead of Hachiya? Sure, but the texture's a bit firmer. I usually blend them to get a smoother pulp. Honestly, if that's what you've got, go for it.
Can I reduce the sugar? Yep, I've done half the amount before. The bread isn't as sweet, but with a drizzle of honey or some jam it's still ace.
Is it freezer friendly? Absolutely! Slice it first, so you can grab a piece whenever. Wrap it up tight though—freezer burn is real.
What if I don't have nuts? Just skip 'em, or toss in a handful of oats or seeds. Or, you know, more chocolate chips. No one ever complained about that.
Can I make it vegan? Uh, I haven't tried, but I've had friends swap the eggs for flax eggs and use coconut oil. They said it works, though the bread's a bit more crumbly.

Last Little Tangent (Because Why Not?)

Did you know persimmons are technically a berry? Wild, right? Oh, and if you ever find yourself with too many, Simply Recipes has some other good ideas. Or, if you want to nerd out about the varieties, Food52 breaks it down in a way that's actually fun to read.

Anyway, give this a whirl and let me know if you discover your own tweak. Maybe your cat will leave it alone, but mine definitely won't.

Persimmon Bread with Fall Flavor