Sara Bir - The Pocket Pawpaw Cookbook

Copyright 2021, Sara Bir

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

First Edition 2021

EBOOK ISBN: 978-1-953368-41-6

Belt Publishing

5322 Fleet Avenue

Cleveland, Ohio 44105

www.beltpublishing.com

Illustrations by Leigh Cox

Cover design by David Wilson

Book design by Meredith Pangrace

For Edelne Wood

Contents

s

e

Introduction

By Alexis Nikole Nelson

Wed been trudging up the river trail for a while now. Autumn hadnt gotten the memo, and we were surrounded by the kind of damp heat that only Ohio in September can conjure. As we lamented our choice of pants, feeling the heat reflecting off the pavement under us, a scent stopped us in our tracks.

Whats that sweet tropical ?

A grin grew across my face, as I pointed up to the bright green-yellow fruits, hanging from bending grey-brown branches, nearly hidden by the trees huge glossy leaves.

Those are what were here for. Those are pawpaws.

Taking someone out for their first pawpaw forage is always exciting. It becomes straight-up exhilarating when its your first one too.

I grew up in a city in southern Ohio where people talked about them like they talked about Mothman or the Loveland Lizard: something mythical hiding in the woods.

When I was a teen, Id ship off to overnight camp for large swaths of the summer, always heading home for school just as the pawpaws in the area were toying with the idea of ripening. I knew where they were. I knew what they looked like. But we always crossed paths at the wrong time!

When I got to college, rumors abounded (okay, they circulated within a very small group of us crunchy native Ohioans), with tales of syrupy-sweet bounty waiting just north of campus along the Olentangy River Trail. But I spent my fall semesters running between labs and jobs and stages, never having enough time to hike a ways north to see what I could find.

But here I was, three months out of school, finally staring the Hillbilly Mango in the face.

After what one could possibly consider too much online reading about pawpaws, I gave the lanky tree a gentle shake.

Thud.

A fruit a smidge smaller than my fist hit the ground, splitting its outer skin, revealing a surprising yellow custard center.

As I took my first, slightly dirty taste of the pulp, I wish I could tell you it was a spiritual experience, that for a second I left the twenty-first century and enjoyed my very first Asimina triloba in some alternate plane alongside the megafauna that spread them across the Eastern U.S. That as I ate, I shared and shook hands (paws?) with a giant sloth.

But that did not happen.

Obviously.

Instead it felt like finally meeting that person all your friends told you for years youd love. And love them I did.

How To Eat a Pawpaw In The Woods

Serves 1 or more

Put on shoes you dont mind getting dirty. Wear clothes you dont mind getting sweaty. Go on a walk in a hardwood forest somewhere north of Florida, east of the Mississippi River, and south of Canada. The Ohio River Valley is a particularly good bet, though not the only one.

Learn how to spot a pawpaw tree. The best way is to ask someone who can show you.

Set out sometime between August and October in the netherworld of summer bleeding into fall.

Sometimes you can sense pawpaws are nearby from the smell alone: heady, honeyed, alive. Look above and below. The fruit itself will be an unassuming green. If you see a pawpaw on the ground, look up and try to figure out where it came from. If its ripe, it will yield to the pressure of your thumb.

You can, and should, tear it apart with your hands. The tender flesh will be pale yellow to deep saffron. The aroma will let you know if its ready to eat. It will offer sensations of mango/banana/citrus/pineapple in combinations youve not experienced before. It will hold large, dark, gleaming seeds.

Work the flesh out of the skin. Raise it to your lips and slurp. It will be sweet and creamy and totally newevery pawpaw in the woods is like your first pawpaw all over again.

Fling the skin aside. Spit out the seeds. Your hands and face will be sticky. Wipe your face with the back of your hand, and wipe your hands on your pants.

Think about what you just did. Consider the leaves and branches around you and imagine all the pawpaws around you that you wont, or cant, see.

Repeat, if desired. Leave the woods, gathering more pawpaws on your way out if theyre available.

Go back home.

Do the woods seem different now?

Are you different?

Way Down Yonder

The box turtle is in the middle of the trail, and initially I think its a giant rotting pawpaw, because the woods are riddled with pawpaw trees. If a ripe pawpaw falls from the tree and smashes open, its the same black-and-yellow color scheme as a box turtles shell.

But its not a pawpaw. Its a box turtle.

On a hot late September day, when the leafy canopy is still at its peak, the shade keeps the temperature down at least ten degrees. Its a good place to run. I run there.

A pawpaw and a box turtle are generally dissimilar. A turtle is a reptile and a pawpaw is a fruit. Both hang out in Appalachian forests. Both are edible, though I think these days more people eat pawpaws, and not very many people eat pawpaws.

Pawpaws are long enough in the tooth that extinct animals like ground sloths ate them. When you taste a pawpaw, you unconsciously commune with your giant mammal ancestors. You savor the funky mango flavor and the slurpy, custardy flesh. Toss the skin aside and spit out the seeds, so that they may grow into future pawpaw trees.

People who know about pawpaws are likely familiar with the Pawpaw Song. Its an old folk tune with an actual name, but I forget what.

Where, oh where is pretty little Susie?
Where, oh where is pretty little Susie?
Where, oh where is pretty little Susie?
Way down yonder in the pawpaw patch.

Come on, boys, lets go find her,
Come on, boys, lets go find her,
Come on, boys, lets go find her,
Way down yonder in the pawpaw patch.

Pickin up pawpaws, puttin em in your pocket,
Pickin up pawpaws, puttin em in your pocket,
Pickin up pawpaws, puttin em in your pocket,
Way down yonder in the pawpaw patch.

It has variations. In this one, are the boys are finding Susie because they want pawpaws, or because they want Susie?

I lift up the box turtle and set it to the side of the trail. It immediately begins its way back. Box turtles do what they want, and this includes crap like heading directly to the dangerous spot they were just airlifted from.

A contrarian myself, I cannot stay off the trail. Like the box turtle, but faster. I have a family and a job I love. I go to the trail to not be with them. In a life of good things, running on the trail is one of the best.