Books -- reading and writing.
Home, cooking, the weather.
And whatever connections I can make between these chapters of my life.

Sunday, July 8, 2012


Each summer about this time, I feel compelled to mark the fig season. 
To tip my hat to one of my favorite foods.
It may be a while before they turn up in my New Jersey Farmers Markets,
but the ones in my sister's yard are almost ready to be plundered by the birds.

I'm collecting recipes.

I no longer have a childhood backyard tree, 
and it's not that easy to time visits to my Mississippi relatives to pick figs.
Instead, I have a bowl of ceramic figs near my front door, 
and more preserves, candles, and soap than I'll use in a lifetime.

They're not really the same as ripe, juicy figs fresh off the tree though, are they?

This summer, I was sorely tempted by a small Fig Tree at our local Stop and Shop. 
In New Jersey! In early June! 

A few tiny figs had started to show themselves. 

Fortunately I came to my senses and passed up the little tree. My sister just reported that she has plenty on her tree, as yet unripened. Maybe there's time to beat the birds to her fruit.

If you care... there's a bit about my Great Fig Fiasco HERE. 
Alas, the Good Blog is Hard to Find people have disbanded that group blog of terrific Southern writers, but the old posts are still there to read. 

Or, if you're lucky and have a tree full of figs, go ahead.
Enjoy that fig and prosciutto appetizer. 
Save your reading for another day.


Leslie S. Rose said...

Love the look of the leaves on the fig tree - exotic.

PragmaticMom said...

We had a fig tree growing up that had luscious green figs that my dad loved. The bees did too! A symbol of summer for me!