I wrote a lovely blog, waxing poetic about living two full seasons with a lovely fig tree (I moved, the tree did not, unfortunately), and how grateful I was for every, lovely bite it offered me (and many birds in the neighborhood). And then I noticed a formatting issue with the images, and a little voice in the back of my head said "don't deal with it now, it's late and you should go to sleep and do it in the morning".
|The colors and tastes of Fall, in a black matte/crazy green bowl on a beautiful|
table runner by textile artist Susan Webb Lee.
Side note: you should always listen to the little voice in the back of your head. I fixed the issue with the images, but then, in one seemingly insignificant moment, I hit a key and it was all gone. I hear people saying they barely touched the keyboard and "the whole thing disappeared", and I secretly laugh at them, because seriously, how can you erase an entire blog with a random keystroke?
My spur of the moment poetry is in a pile, next to my astonishment at what I just did, so I'll just say that the fresh figs you buy in the grocery, unless the farmer who picked them just put the pint or quart out on the shelf, are nothing ... NOTHING like fresh figs off the tree. And if you are fortunate enough to have a fruiting tree in your midst, do not let them all go to the birds (and wasps, and spiders, if you leave them too long!).
And now, because it really is time for me to sleep, I'll forego trying to recreate all my lovely fig/seasonal/pottery poetry, and leave you with some images of my recent reunion with fresh figs. I hope you're enjoying all the flavors, aromas, and textures of the changing season!
|Lunch in the changing season: figs drizzled with a reduction of balsamic vinegar|
and pommegranate molasses, with an end of season tomato and local goat Paprika Tomme.
|Ode to Fall: roasted sweet potatoes, tossed with crumbled bacon, fresh figs, |
and onions caramelized in bacon fat and balsamic vinegar.
Someday I hope to have a fig tree again, but until then I will be grateful for Friends with Figs, and the seasonal abundance at the tailgate markets. And if I can stop eating them fresh and tossing them in other dishes, I'll dry some out to save for Sugar Plums later in the winter!