>hachiya vs. fuyu

There is a persimmon tree on a street where I take occasional walks. There is still plenty of ripe fruit remaining on the reachable branches.

???

1) People in this neighborhood wouldn't think of taking someone else's fruit, even when it belongs to the city, or

2) Many people must still be oblivious to this one of the tastiest fruits on this planet, or

3) People are very knowledgeable indeed - they know this is hachiya, on the left, a pointy shaped, soft-ripening persimmon, which can be extremely bitter when not completely ripe.

...as opposed to flat-shaped fuyu, on the right, which ripens firm, and almost always tasty.

This versatile, universally liked sweet fruit is also my favorite. Some people even call it Sharon fruit!

>turgoose?

Years ago, Grocery Trekker mail-ordered the freaky poultry creation, turducken, a couple of times, from New Orleans.

It tasted, I have to admit, at least as good as one of its three individual parts.

The thought did cross my mind - that I should try to make it myself this Thanksgiving.

However... I don't feel ambitious enough even for a turduck or turken. Turgoose might be another story? Nah.

>yuba vs. pappardelle

Vacation last week with parents in the Yuba River region (Tahoe National Forest) now reminds me of an ingredient that is soy's equivalent of milk skin. It is, of course, yuba, a.k.a. tofu skin. The protein-rich yuba is a clever substitute for pasta. And so tasty.

Coi in San Francisco does a pappardelle version with chanterelles, coconut milk and kaffir lime, their best dish.

JFC International Inc. sells "edamame yuba sticks". Hodo Soy Beanery has the best fresh yuba.

Try making yuba lasagna, yuba and cheese, yuba primavera.

>orecchiette

Dinner at Ama in New York was decidedly boring. Perhaps I am incapable of appreciating the nuances of the Pugliese cuisine. I expected rustic. It wasn't. I expected interesting ingredients. They were, how shall I put it, the usual.

The highlight of the meal was playing with a plate of orecchiette, expertly prepared by an imaginary Italian grandmother.

>soy gelee

Saturday night's dinner at Bouley didn't have many surprises. Why does it seem hard to find something new at restaurants these days?

Its entry, a wallful of apples, was intensely fragrant. Lovely interior.

What made the biggest impression? Soy gelee cubes only slightly bigger than the size of pin-heads. A tuna sashimi dish was sprinkled with these dark, salty miniature jelly cubes. There were white mystery jelly cubes, too. Yuzu cubes?