I was so happy when I got my hands on a Japanese satsuma imo and kaki! It made the month of November a million times better for me:) One day I went to Cleveland to drop off a friend at the Greyhound station and decided to run by Tremont before heading back to Oberlin. There happened to be a little farmers market next to where we parked the car, so we stopped by to see what it had to offer; cheeses from grass fed cows, baked goods, tea, spices, and produce. One stand in particular was brimming with color, such beautiful vegetables! In the back of mind a little hope was rising - ever since Roy had told me that the stores were spraying the satsuma imo so that you cannot use them for growing, I had been on the lookout. So when I saw the purple tinted, dirt dusted skins of long, crooked potatoes I could hardly contain myself. "Are these Japanese sweet potatoes?" "They sure are." I used every dollar I had on me to get those sweet potatoes. While I was in Japan in late October and early November last year, I spent some time harvesting sweet potatoes. I was hacking back the vines and gently digging and pulling them out. Then there would be crates full in the storage house that I could take from whenever I pleased...this year I had been hounding for them wherever I went. But it paid off! And I went home with my backpack full of sweet potatoes. I roasted one in the oven. It isn't quite the same as when I was sorting tomatoes in Uto in late December with freezing finger tips and my aunt wrapped one in foil and set it on the space heater to roast. The taste of satsuma imo is a taste of warmth and comfort to me - apparently my grandmother had felt the same way.
The persimmons I found at the asian market in Cleveland when I went to go pick that friend up a few days later. Soft and kind of slimy. When I ate a persimmon in Japan I learned the expression, "Becha becha" which basically means mushy... (but good). On the farm I was on in Japan I had to harvest all the persimmons from a tree - but these weren't for eating fresh but for drying out as hoshigaki to eat at New Years. So I harvested about sixty of them, peeled them all, tied them on a string, and hung them in the plastic house to dry. Unfortunately it rained for days soon after and some of them didn't make it to the new year but rotted... but when you get a good hoshigaki, there is nothing like it!
The persimmons I found at the asian market in Cleveland when I went to go pick that friend up a few days later. Soft and kind of slimy. When I ate a persimmon in Japan I learned the expression, "Becha becha" which basically means mushy... (but good). On the farm I was on in Japan I had to harvest all the persimmons from a tree - but these weren't for eating fresh but for drying out as hoshigaki to eat at New Years. So I harvested about sixty of them, peeled them all, tied them on a string, and hung them in the plastic house to dry. Unfortunately it rained for days soon after and some of them didn't make it to the new year but rotted... but when you get a good hoshigaki, there is nothing like it!