This is an open letter of apology to all the mothers of those who work in the service industry. There is no substitute for the absence of hugs and shared holiday meals. There is no explanation which will ease your hearts of our absence, and for that we are sorry.
There are many of us married to the service industry, in one form or another. For me, it was first began in the restaurant industry. With pride and a slight sneer, I’d agree in Bourdain’s description of the people filling the ranks of restaurant workers as being the misfits and underbelly of society. We live our lives counter-current to “normal” society, often never feeling like we completely fit in anywhere except amongst our fellow deviants.
Pretty inspiration for our Persimmon Poem
We adapt and manage, finding personal solace and happiness through our own methods. Brooke at FoodWoolf, a long-time restaurant professional, recently gave a well-written account of her method of fending off holiday madness through the creation of “Restaurant Christmas” on Jan. 25th every year.
Now that Diane and I are working together through the holidays at our portrait studio, the joy comes from seeing our craft bring tears to the moms and grandmas for whom their family has gathered together from their scattered daily lives to capture a moment.
It is easy for us to justify the 16 hour days, the sacrificing of our own holidays, and the removal from “normal” society in the face of such preciousness. By the time Christmas finally arrives we are exhausted, weary of people in general, and glad to turn another year. However, there is a glow in our hearts remembering and imagining the faces of our clients’ moms.
Which is all fine and dandy for us, but there is collateral damage. Our own families. Particularly the moms. Dads always seem to understand and accept in their own quiet ways, but it is hard on the moms. They accept our apologies and belated hugs with grace and love, but it really isn’t fair. My mom never complains about our distant holidays, but I can see it. Behind the Skyped greetings and cyber hugs, it is hard. For that I am so sorry.
I’m not sure if this recipe is a consolation or more of an atonement. This recipe was one of my mom’s favorites made by Grandma. I’m tossing it up into the winds of our cyber world so it can scatter its seeds, never to be lost. Best made from home grown persimmons which were raised with love.
I love you Mom.
More Terrific Persimmon Recipes :
- Simply Recipes – Persimmon Cookies with Orange Glaze
- Pinch My Salt- Persimmon Cookies
- David Lebovitz- Persimmon Bread
- 101 Cookbooks – Wheat Berry breakfast bowl with persimmons
Persimmon Cookies Recipe
Yield: 36 cookies
Total Time: 30 minutes
These are a gloriously soft, moist cookie. This recipe is as written from my grandmother's recipe card, with the mere addition of grams added for ease in measurement. Cranberries would be an excellent substitute for the raisins and chocolate chips are another great addition, both requests from Mom. She passed this on to me with the side note: " ****** from my mom's very old recipe box****** ". The batter would likely make excellent muffins or as a cake layer. Dough freezes well.
- 1/2 cup butter or oleo (115g)
- 1 cup sugar (200g)
- 1 egg
- 1 tsp. baking soda (5g)
- 1 cup persimmon pulp (260g)
- 2 cups flour (250g)
- 1/2 tsp. salt
- 1/2 tsp. cinnamon
- 1/4 tsp. nutmeg
- 1/4 tsp. cloves
- 1 cup raisins
- 1 cup chopped nuts
Bake at 325 degrees for 12-15 minutes.
- Cream butter & sugar, add egg, add persimmon pulp with soda. Mix well.
- Add sifted dry ingredients then nuts & raisins. (Chilling the cookie dough at this point will help give fluffier cookies.)
- Drop on greased cookie sheet. Keep cookies small and far apart as they spread out.