Fennel Carrot Soup

spiced soup for cool weather with a hint of persimmon

If you follow me on social media, you probably already know I’ve been up to my neck in persimmons. The property I live on has three hachiya trees and they’ve been dripping with fruit for the past few weeks.

Persimmons feel like the jewel of winter with their bright to burnt orange hues and shiny skin. Hanging like ornaments from bare branches, they’re really the gift that keeps on giving all season long.

Hachiyas (the larger more elongated variety) are what’s most abundant on the property, so I’ve learned a few ways to enjoy their abundance. First, and perhaps the simplest way is waiting for them to become ripe and completely soft to the touch. Sort of like the texture of a poached egg.

You can scoop out the flesh and enjoy it right off the spoon, make a jam, or add to sweet or savory recipes as I did here. If you don’t wait for them to get ripe and mush, you’ll be sadly disappointed by their flavor. Plus, they’ll leave your mouth feeling rather astringent and dry. Not the experience we’re going for here.

On the other hand, if you’re impatient like me and want to eat them sooner than later, you can slice them when they’re still firm and dehydrate them as a way of preserving them. They make a great dried food snack, salad topping, or addition to granola.

Another delicious, but much more involved, way of enjoying them is by making hoshigaki. This ancient Japanese preservation technique of peeling, hanging and massaging (yes, you read that right), individual unripe persimmons to dry totally transforms the fruit into a delicacy that can cost a cool $50 for a pack of 6.

This slow drying method encourages the natural sugars to preserve the fruit while concentrating their flavor and creating a nuance of notes on your tongue. I have a feeling the amount of care given to each persimmon only further adds to the alchemy that occurs to make hoshigaki.

I learned how to make hoshigaki from Sonoko Sakai, a fellow Roost Books author, and incredible Japanese cook, last year and was pleasantly surprised at how doable she made the process feel. Definitely check her out if you want to learn how to make them at home.

Since I had so many persimmons and a few of them turned ripe before I had a chance to preserve them, I decided to use them in a soup. Their sweet flavor lent a nice balance to the savory spices and complimented the anise flavor of the fennel.

If you don’t happen to have any hachiya persimmons at the market, ripe fuyus would do well as a replacement. Though you don’t need to wait until they are completely soft to use them. Slice them up, remove any seeds, and add them in with the carrots.

Feel free to use whatever spices call you right now. I was going for a Morrocan-inspired spice combination here but add a dash more or less of your favorites. This is a great recipe to add a tablespoon or two of powdered adaptogens like astragalus, maca, or ashwagandha for a medicinal kick.

Or, if you have an adaptogenic spice blend already made, add a tablespoon or two after the fennel is tender. Make it extra special with a dollop of something creamy, freshly chopped herbs, and another sprinkle of spices on top.