Persimmon Pudding: A Classic American Dessert

Somewhere in the American Midwest, in church basements and at county fairs, persimmon pudding never went away. It’s been there the whole time — dense, custardy, warmly spiced, served in squares with a cloud of whipped cream — while the rest of the country forgot it existed.

This is a dessert with roots stretching back centuries, made from a fruit that grows wild across the eastern United States. And it is, without exaggeration, one of the best things you can bake in the fall. It deserves to be known far beyond southern Indiana.

A Little History

Persimmon pudding is first and foremost a Midwest tradition, with its deepest roots in Indiana. The state’s southern counties are thick with American persimmon trees (Diospyros virginiana), the native species that grows wild from Connecticut to Kansas. These are smaller and more intensely flavored than the Asian persimmons (Fuyu and Hachiya) you see at grocery stores — marble-sized fruit with a concentrated sweetness that tastes like dates and caramel had a baby.

For generations, Hoosiers have gathered wild persimmons in the fall, mashed the pulp, and baked it into pudding. The Mitchell Persimmon Festival in Indiana has been celebrating the fruit since 1947, with persimmon pudding as the star attraction. Recipes have been passed down through families for longer than anyone can precisely document.

The “pudding” here isn’t the creamy, spoonable kind you’re thinking of. Midwestern persimmon pudding is baked — more like a dense cake or custard that’s sliced into squares. Think of it as somewhere between a brownie and a flan in texture, with a flavor that’s entirely its own.

Choosing Your Persimmons

If you can get American persimmons: Ideal. Their flavor is more concentrated and complex than Asian varieties. You’ll need to gather them ripe from a tree or find them at a local farmers market in persimmon country. They should be completely soft and wrinkly. Mash through a colander or food mill to separate pulp from seeds and skins.

If you’re using Hachiya persimmons: This is what most people outside the Midwest will use, and it works wonderfully. Hachiyas are widely available during fall and winter, and their soft, sweet pulp is an excellent stand-in. Make sure they’re fully ripe — jelly-soft all the way through (see how to ripen persimmons if yours are still firm). Scoop the pulp and mash or blend until smooth.

Fuyu persimmons: Not the right choice here. Too firm, too dry, wrong flavor profile for pudding.

You’ll need about 2 cups of pulp for a standard recipe. That’s roughly 4-6 ripe Hachiya or a good bowl of wild American persimmons.

The Recipe

This is a traditional baked persimmon pudding — the kind you’d find at any church supper in southern Indiana. It’s simple, it’s unfussy, and it tastes like autumn distilled into a baking dish.

Ingredients

  • 2 cups persimmon pulp (Hachiya or American)
  • 2 cups granulated sugar
  • 2 large eggs, beaten
  • 1 1/2 cups buttermilk
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • 2 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1 teaspoon cinnamon
  • 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
  • 1/4 teaspoon allspice
  • 1/2 cup melted butter
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Instructions

  1. Preheat oven to 325°F. Grease a 9x13-inch baking dish. Some bakers butter it generously and then dust with a little sugar — the edges get a caramelized crust that’s particularly good.

  2. Dissolve baking soda in buttermilk. Stir the baking soda into the buttermilk and set aside. It’ll foam up — that’s the reaction you want.

  3. Mix persimmon pulp and sugar. In a large bowl, stir together the pulp and sugar until the sugar dissolves into the pulp. Add the beaten eggs and mix well.

  4. Combine dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice.

  5. Bring it together. Alternate adding the buttermilk mixture and the dry ingredients to the persimmon mixture, stirring after each addition. Stir in the melted butter and vanilla last.

  6. Pour into the baking dish. The batter will be thin — thinner than cake batter. This is normal. Don’t panic.

  7. Bake for 50-60 minutes. The pudding is done when the edges are set and slightly pulled away from the pan, and the center has just a slight jiggle (like a custard, not a liquid). A toothpick won’t come out clean — this isn’t that kind of dessert. You’re looking for moist crumbs, not dry ones.

  8. Cool before serving. The pudding sets up as it cools. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Steamed vs. Baked: Two Traditions

The recipe above is the baked version, which is by far the most common in home kitchens. But there’s an older tradition — steamed persimmon pudding — that’s worth knowing about.

Steamed persimmon pudding is closer to a British-style steamed pudding or an American brown bread. The batter goes into a greased mold or coffee can, which is then placed in a larger pot of simmering water (or a steamer). It cooks, covered, for 2-3 hours. The result is denser, more uniformly moist, and darker than the baked version.

Steamed pudding has a more old-fashioned feel — it’s the kind of thing your great-grandmother might have made. The baked version is easier and faster, but if you want to try steaming, use the same batter, pour it into a greased 2-quart pudding mold, cover tightly with foil, and steam in a water bath at a gentle simmer for 2 to 2.5 hours.

How to Serve It

Persimmon pudding is good on its own, but it’s better with a topping. Here are the traditional options.

Whipped Cream

The simplest and most common. A big dollop of unsweetened or lightly sweetened whipped cream on each square. The cool, airy cream against the warm, dense pudding is the textbook pairing.

Hard Sauce

This is the old-school choice, and it’s incredible. Hard sauce is just butter, powdered sugar, and a splash of brandy or bourbon, beaten together until fluffy. It goes on top of the warm pudding in a pat, where it slowly melts into a boozy, buttery pool. It’s rich and completely over the top in the best way.

To make it: beat 1/2 cup softened butter with 1 1/2 cups powdered sugar and 2 tablespoons brandy or bourbon until light and fluffy. Chill until firm, then spoon onto warm pudding slices.

Vanilla Ice Cream

Modern but effective. A scoop of good vanilla alongside a warm square of pudding. The temperature contrast works beautifully.

Caramel Sauce

A warm drizzle of salted caramel over persimmon pudding is genuinely spectacular. The butterscotch notes in the caramel amplify the natural caramel-like flavor of the persimmon. If you have a homemade caramel sauce recipe, this is its moment.

Why This Dessert Deserves a Comeback

Persimmon pudding has been quietly holding its ground in Indiana and a few surrounding states for generations, but it’s barely known elsewhere. That’s a shame, for a few reasons.

The flavor is unlike anything else. It doesn’t taste like pumpkin pie, pecan pie, or any other standard fall dessert. Persimmon has its own flavor lane — deep honey sweetness with notes of caramel, dates, and warm baking spices. Once you’ve had it, nothing else fills that specific craving.

It’s dead simple to make. One bowl, basic pantry ingredients, no fancy technique. You don’t need a stand mixer. You don’t need to temper eggs or fold anything gently. Stir, pour, bake.

It connects you to something real. In a food culture increasingly obsessed with the new and novel, persimmon pudding is the opposite — a recipe that’s been made the same way for over a century, using fruit that falls from trees and asks nothing of you but patience. There’s something grounding about that.

It’s a conversation starter. Bring persimmon pudding to a Thanksgiving gathering outside the Midwest and watch the questions roll in. Nobody knows what it is. Everybody wants to try it. It becomes the most talked-about dish on the table.

The Mitchell Persimmon Festival draws tens of thousands of visitors every fall. People in persimmon country are serious about this dish. The rest of us are just late to the party.

Tips for the Best Pudding

Don’t overbake. This pudding is supposed to be dense and moist — almost sticky in the center. Pulling it out while the center still jiggles is exactly right. It sets as it cools.

Use real buttermilk. If you don’t have it, stir 1 tablespoon of white vinegar into 1 1/2 cups of regular milk and let it sit for 5 minutes.

Day two is even better. Persimmon pudding improves overnight as the flavors meld. Cover and store at room temperature for up to 2 days, or in the fridge for up to a week.

Freeze extra pulp. Freeze it in 2-cup portions — exactly what this recipe calls for. You’ll be making pudding long after fresh fruit is gone.

Make this once. You’ll make it every fall after that. If you love baking with persimmons, try our persimmon bread next.