The Girl and the Fig

I simply adore figs. Borderline obsessive about them actually. They remind me of childhood and late summer, my favorite time of year. Growing up we would pick them right off the tree in my mom's backyard, and eat them. When fresh and ripe, those little suckers are supple, sweet and wonderful. The inside of a fresh fig is so succulent, and a gorgeous while and pink color, and loaded with tiny edible seeds. They are good with proscuitto, chicken, in tarts, with goat or blue (or halloumi) cheese, drizzled with honey or pepper, but seriously, they are best just right off the tree, unmodified, uncooked, just as they are.

Figs are a Mediterranean staple. In California where I'm from, figs are also abundant and cheap, almost to the point where during their peak season in late summer, they are too plentiful to be sold - you can just pick them anywhere. Here in Utah, since we have to import them, and since they are delicate and don't travel well, they are expensive, teeny and unripe. Sometimes I give in and buy them when they look decent at Whole Foods, but usually, I can't even eat them, they are so unflavorful compared to what I'm used to. The only thing that keeps me going during fig season are my yearly trips back to the Bay, where I load up and try to bring as many back with me as I can. Fig season is so important to me, right up with with Christmas and Chinese New Year, that I haven't missed one since moving away. This year, my good friend Shelly gave me some canned and bottled fig delicacies that she made in her home kitchen with figs from her tree: Fig balsamic reduction, fig wine sauce, fig jam and fig syrup. That stuff won't last long.

If your only interaction with the fig is from those silly little Newton things, then you really haven't had a fig. Go right now, don't wait, and try a fresh one, wherever you are, even if it means traveling thousands of miles.