I have a friend who was recently waxing eloquent on the joys of persimmons, which have just appeared in our markets. So sweet, so delicate, with flesh like a quivering orange jewel, they are a transitory pleasure; like the fresh figs of a month or two ago, they won't be around for long, so in my opinion it's all right to make gluttons of ourselves. I didn't taste persimmons until I was a grown-up but I remember a photograph I saw in a book, of Japanese children in the snow, shaking a leafless persimmon tree loaded with bright fruit. I don't know if they would have been a viable crop in Idaho, where I grew up, but certainly no one grew them, at least no one that I know of.
It's also prime season for fresh pears, which I didn't fully appreciate until a few years ago, having grown up eating the canned variety. But look at these! The red, like the princess in a fairy tale, more easily bruised than some, so we'll eat those first, then the more common but still noble Bartlett, which sometimes blushes a bit, and the sturdy brown Bosc, wonderful for poaching, but we'll probably eat these raw with a nice pungent cheese. Though pears are more common than some fruits, they are a sensual delight, and prices are low--'tis the season. Let's treat ourselves!