Fall

Thanksgiving is without a doubt the most American holiday in our history. It is a celebration of beloved foods and traditions bringing to mind happy memories of good times shared with family and friends.

Because this national harvest celebration is so near and dear to the hearts of Americans it is no wonder so many of us spend weeks planning this very special banquet.

I look forward every year to the roster of ingredients so ritualized in our Thanksgiving meals. The anticipation of the usual heirloom dishes of cornbread stuffing, butternut squash and mashed potatoes always induce many enduring holiday memories of years past.

However, even though our families expect many of same dishes prepared from year to year, I always like to add something new and different to the holiday feast. It's also a bonus when this new dish is particularly attractive and noticed almost immediately by your guests.

This year, bring the beauty of Fall indoors and serve these Mini-Stuffed Pumpkins with a Sausage-Rice-Fruit Medley. This dish will elevate your holiday table with its rustic charm, natural beauty and comforting flavors.

It is a little known fact that I can speak Japanese. True, I only know two words, but I say them well.

1. Hachiya. No, it is not a greeting. It’s a persimmon.

2. Fuyu. No, not the clothing line (that’s FUBU). They are also persimmons. Not to be confused with Russell Simmons (who incidentally created Phat Farm, not FUBU).

There are about a dozen varieties of persimmons grown throughout the world; only two are generally found in the States: Hachiya and Fuyu (Fuyugaki). Both are Japanese.

Though Hachiya and Fuyu persimmons are both fun to say and have similarly pumpkin colored skin, they are different in shape, texture, and culinary use. It’s important to know the difference between them; otherwise, your persimmon eating experience will be memorable for all the wrong reasons.

Hachiya persimmons are acorn shaped and have deeper orange skin with black streaks on it. They are astringent, which means they can be eaten only when fully ripened. A ripe Hachiya is extremely soft and should be squishy in your hand. Removing the thin skin reveals coral colored flesh so thick and glossy it looks like marmalade, and tastes like it too -- it's pleasingly sweet with hints of mango and apricot. Though they can be enjoyed raw, Hachiyas are really prized for baking.

Last weekend I went apple picking with my family at Silverman's Farm in Connecticut. We have been going there since I was a kid, when we would all stand by and watch as the apple press squeezed the juice out of freshly-picked apples, and would get to sample the delicious result of apple cider. Unfortunately the apple press has been retired; it is now located inside the market as a symbolic relic from the past. Because of new production standards, the farm no longer offers unpasteurized cider made on the premises, but instead pasteurizes and bottles its cider off site.

The orchards are currently laden with apples ready for picking. Pickers are taken up to the orchards by tractors running nonstop. Everywhere you look there are families with young kids, groups of friends, and those who come every year. The apples are great this year; however, they are ripening faster than usual. Go now before all the apples have fallen off the trees and bring home a bag of apples.

For a long time, the closest I had ever come to what I thought was a real fig was the dried kind or Fig Newtons. It wasn't until a family friend gave us a fig tree that I learned figs are actually fresh before they are dried. Not only that, but I discovered that fresh figs were worlds apart from the dried ones. We weren't the only family with a fig tree in the neighborhood. Italian and Portuguese neighbors had them too. That's because figs are native to the Mediterranean region, where they have been revered since ancient and biblical times. You can't not find mention of it in ancient Greek and Roman texts and of course the Bible's creation story. What would we have done without fig leaves?

For a number of years we were lucky to have our own Garden of Eden with a flourishing fig tree in the backyard. With much ingenuity we were able to keep it protected through many winters until one year it finally didn't survive the cold. But I can never forget how anxious I was all summer long as I waited for the figs to ripen. It seemed to me they always took so long. But fig season is late September, so I had to learn to be patient because there was nothing I could do to speed up mother nature.