When enough of these ripen, I’m going to make persimmon butter. I’ve found recipe, and it uses my Instant Pot.
There were two, maybe three persimmon trees on the farm my family owned. I remember yellow jackets, red wasps, and bees were attracted to the sweet, fermented smell of the persimmons that fell from the tree.
When I was little, Daddy not only showed me how tasty they are but also how to use them as weapons. That’s right, weapons. Get a long flexible switch (a small tree branch) and peel the bark off the end. The switch needs to be strong enough to stab through a green, unripened persimmon. Swing the switch back like you are casting a fishing pole and aim it at your target. Let lose and the persimmon whips off the switch and rockets through the air. If your target is human, OUCH.
Mom worked perssimons-as-weapons into her book, The Settling Place. It really must have been a thing back in the day.
Persimmons-as-apple butter sounds hospitable and peaceful. I prefer it over stockpiling them for ammunition.