After being warned, have you ever gone ahead and done something anyway?

Me? Absolutely—it’s part of my rebellious nature! I’ve about lost count of how many times I’ve headed off to do the very thing I was told not to. The latest instance involved sampling a raw American persimmon for the first time.

Persimmons are native to the American South, though the trees can be found as far North as Connecticut and west as Oklahoma. They grow wild on my friend Chasity’s property in Rockingham County.

When I noticed them during a visit a few months ago, we discovered neither of us had ever tried one. So Chasity promised to bring me some once they ripened up.

I’d nearly forgotten about it until Chasity texted me, saying she was on her way over—with persimmons in hand.

Despite her mama’s warnings that they’ll turn your mouth inside out, she brought them anyway.

We probably should’ve listened. Experience, after all, is the foundation of wisdom, but we’re both hardheaded as hell. So we sat down and tried our first taste of American persimmon together.

I thought I was prepared. I’d enjoyed persimmons in countless culinary forms, from jams to breads. But there’s a crucial detail I overlooked—they require a kiss from frost to soften their astringency, and they’re best when you pick them up from the ground.

The raw taste? Well, it was a revelation—not quite what we expected, but an adventure in itself. Sometimes, you need to taste the bitterness to appreciate the sweetness of life’s lessons.