The sweet story of wind-hung persimmons at Lưng Chừng House

As late autumn fades into early winter, the hillsides of Lưng Chừng House take on a new mantle: morning mists roll in, leaves fall away, and branches bow low with heavy, golden-ripe persimmons swaying in the chilly breeze.

Dad's pure joy in the morning garden

On misty mornings, Dad's familiar figure strolls into the garden carrying a rustic bamboo basket and long harvesting pole. After decades working behind an office desk, tending the garden has become his purest joy — personally nurturing every fruit tree for this land in his golden retirement years.

Dad gently harvests each fruit, dividing them into two portions with loving care: the soft, honey-sweet crimson fruits are kept in a bamboo basket to treat visiting guests; the firmer, orange-gold fruits with sturdy stems are brought inside to be hand-peeled and cured into crispy, sweet wind-hung persimmons.

Wind-hung persimmon racks under the wooden eaves

The little kitchen of Lưng Chừng these days always carries the delicate, sweet fragrance of persimmon honey. The whole family gathers by the veranda — one skillfully peeling the skins while preserving the floral calyx, another gently dipping each fruit into boiling water to sterilize, then stringing them onto sturdy ropes.

Beneath the rustic timber eaves, golden strings of persimmons are hung in neat rows, resting comfortably in the crisp highland sunshine and breezy mountain winds of Xuân Thọ.

Time flows by with quiet patience and tranquility. Day after day, Dad gently massages each drying fruit with his fingers, ensuring the rich internal honey spreads evenly throughout without breaking the delicate outer surface.

After several weeks guided by highland winds and golden sun, each batch of hoshigaki wind-hung persimmons is finished with a chewy, soft brown skin on the outside and a luscious, honey-sweet center that melts gracefully on the tongue.

Wholesome sweetness amidst chilly mountain mist

Sitting on the wooden porch watching the swaying persimmon strings, savoring a slice of tender persimmon alongside a steaming pot of tea or fragrant artisan coffee in the chilly afternoon mist, you will realize the true taste of Dalat autumn is never far away — it lives completely within the sincere, hospitable hearts of our family.