Persimmon Pudding


For a farm boy from Grays Chapel this time of year means the persimmons are starting to ripen and fall off the trees, something that will accelerate as the first frost approaches. That also means fresh persimmon pudding, a dessert our family likens to the nectar of the gods. Not particularly visually inspiring, I could have probably improved my photograph with a little whipped cream or fresh mint accent. After all, food photography is about making things look appealing. Here, I’ve shown a piece of persimmon pudding the way it was meant to be eaten. For sheer gastronomic ecstasy, all you really need is a plate, a slab of pudding, and a fork to eat it with (fork and plate are optional).

(Photographs copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Sorghum Molasses


Saturday morning I went over to Gary McMasters’ farm in Grays Chapel, North Carolina to watch something my Dad used to talk about, but something I had never actually seen done. Along with neighbors Buddy McNeil, Adrian Staley, Brandon Bryson and Charlie Latham, Gary and his family were in the middle of making sorghum molasses. Gary grows the cane on his own land, then he, Buddy and Adrian cut it, strip it of its leaves, and then press the juice out of it with an antique mill powered by Gary’s mule Sam. Once the juice is collected, it’s cooked down into a syrup. On Saturday, the process started at 6 AM in the morning. Sam walked round and round till about nine and Gary collected one hundred or so gallons of juice. He then started a wood fire under a large stainless steel cooker and began to cook the liquid down. This cooking process is pretty much an all day job. Gary keeps everything at a steady boil and continuously stirs and skims pulp that floats to the surface. On Saturday it took until six in the afternoon to reduce the cane juice to a thick consistency where it could be strained and poured into jars. One hundred gallons of cane juice produced about ten gallons of finished molasses.

Gary sells the jars of molasses, but he doesn’t really do it for the money. It’s too hard a job and the returns are certainly not worth the amount of labor that goes into it. Rather, he does it because he enjoys doing things the old way. He can work his mule and get together with his family and neighbors and share and pass on skills that probably won’t survive many more years. Saturday I was a witness to a bygone era. Gary tells his daughter Elizabeth, “If you want to know how they used to do things, you better watch me now, cause when I’m gone you may not see it done again.” I feel fortunate to live nearby and to have the opportunity to see and record his labor.


















(All photographs copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Summer Dinner


Summertime at our home in Grays Chapel, North Carolina means fresh vegetables and fruit, and with my wife and daughter-in-law working together in the kitchen, dinner is a special time. Friday, there was a crumb top plum pie fresh from our trees and flash fried okra with eggplant parmesan made with fresh eggplant and marinara sauce from the garden. Add fresh tomatoes and cantaloupe and you’re good to go.

(Photographs copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)