Fig season officially kicked off for me yesterday. Figs are a great source of fiber, calcium and potassium, as well as lignin, which helps to plump up cell walls and may be why the ancient Roman philosopher Pliny the Elder claimed figs helped people retain a youthful appearance. Figs are best eaten "warm from the tree," although that's a taste the majority of people here in Atlanta will never experience because if our figs don't come from Turkey, Greece, Spain or Portugal, they come from California, 3,000 miles away. What's more, they usually come in the form of fig newtons, that distant cousin to the life-affirming sensation of eating a fresh fig, because fresh figs do not travel or store well.
And so it is with a bit of hesitation that I tell you my secret. I found a local fig tree last year (in addition to the small one I have growing in my garden). It is huge and yields hundreds of big, fat, purplish-greenish figs that melt in your mouth with a distinct taste of peach and honey, pulsating energy and history, all wrapped up in a neat little package. And nobody seems to know about it. It must have been planted years ago, with love and intention, and then forgotten. It's just there, on my walk, a little bit hidden and completely overlooked. Overripe figs rotted and fell to the ground last year before I discovered it. I asked the shopowner if I could pick them, and he didn't seem to care one way or the other. And so now, I leave a note on my kitchen counter that says "Gone figging" and I go to my secret tree, two minutes away, to relieve it of its fruits, considering it a bit of a public service, perhaps. And an extraordinary, unexpected treat for four weeks or so during the lazy, hot and humid days of a Southern summer. I always come home to anxious faces, ready to kick back like Cleopatra and plop those plump gifts from the gods into their mouths.
Good news. TaylOrganic Farm in Ellenwood, Georgia, grows figs. Contact Neil and see how you, too, can eat this oldest and sweetest of fruits "warm from the tree."
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3 comments:
*whimper* My last fresh fig was last Thanksgiving in Santa Barbara as I was visiting my uncle. They had 6 little pints at a vendor at the farmer's market. I bought all of them. I ate figs for a week! Here in Idaho we don't grow them or import them, sigh...
However, MEN had an article a few months ago about a guy in the Northeast who planted and has fig trees that have survived their winters for several years. I've saved the article and have *plans*!
I have heard about elaborate stuffing-with-straw and wrapping-with-burlap strategies that keep the fig trees alive during the winter! Or just cherish your sense-of-place memories of when you visit your uncle. That's worth more than gold, and is impossible to replciate.
what about using ginger root as a form of figging? I mean, can't you use that? Doesn't that give a more burning sensation? As a matter of fact, I think I'm going to go figging - do you sell "Gone Figging" signs that I can stick on my office door?
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