Back to the figs...
I love figs. They are perfectly sweet. I've been enjoying (read: pigging out on) summer berries and stone fruits and needed an intermezzo. Figs are just the thing. I love them plain and whole. I'm thinking a lovely breakfast would be a scoop of Greek yogurt topped with quartered figs and drizzled with my Savannah Bee honey.
If serving figs formally I would present them as an hors d'oevre, quartered alongside a goat cheese or halved to accompany a selection of cheeses. Or, as a dessert atop a Chèvre tart or with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a drizzle of Armangac reduction, or accompanying a luscious Zabaglione. I'd consider them in a salad, in place of pear or pomegranate seeds, but I prefer to make them more of a star.
How do you take your figs?
I love figs too, and I love that they make me think of Grandpa Joe and his fig tree that he uprooted and took with him whenever he moved. Or so the story goes. Do you remember those huge figs we bought for a snack in Japan? I think they came 2 to a package and were as big as apples? Or did I dream that? In any case, one day last summer, I wound up with a few slightly overripe figs that I didn't want to eat out of hand. I think I must have searched the Web for what to do with them, and found this Mark Bittman preparation:
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I seem to remember we also lucked into a really great piece of fish, but the fig relish was scrumptious beyond my wildest hopes. That'll be on the menu this week if my fruit man has the figs. Thanks for reminding me!
The Figs Of My Imagination! I had forgotten about those too. What is it about the fig that is forgettable? Nothing...during fig season!
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