Figs in Season

On my way home from work last week, I passed my neighborhood community garden, as I always do.  The garden is about an acre in size, and neighbors rent out little plots, separated by chicken wire, filling them with flowers and food crops that thrive in our Mid-Atlantic climate.  I always notice the garden, but never walk right beside it.  There's no sidewalk on that side of the street.  So, I usually just appreciate the greenery from afar and enjoy the fact of this quaint neighborhood endeavor. 

Last week, though, I noticed a bit of commotion near a large tree that's just next to the garden plot.  I began to walk toward the tree, crossing the street.  As I approached, I noticed the large, unmistakable shape of the leaves.  The tree was a sprawling fig, and two neighbors were admiring the ripening fruits on its branches.  Conscious of community garden etiquette*, I asked the neighbors if non-members could pick from the tree, since it was outside of the garden bounds.  One of the neighbors, presumably a garden member, said, sternly, "I don't think that anyone's policing it."  That was all the (extra) encouragement I needed.  I dropped my work bag at home, changed into more harvest-friendly duds, and returned to the tree, armed with a plastic bag for my booty.**  I've been checking on the tree about every other day since then, snapping up newly-ripened fruit, and savoring the luxury of fresh, seasonal figs.

Before coming to D.C. for law school, I lived in Cairo, where almost all of the available fresh fruits and vegetables were those that were locally in season.  That meant a bounty of figs and mangos in September.  The fruit seller folded figs into a paper cone (using brown butcher paper or newspaper, depending on what was handy), which always felt like a present to open once I began unpacking groceries at home.

Ripe figs are like fat little jewels, with complexity of flavor and texture that, in my book, stations figs among a select group of foods that are perfect in their natural state.

I haven't bothered to do very much with this season's treasure, besides happily gorge myself on the whole fruits.  Figs do work very well, though, in a fruit crisp recipe, like the Joy of Cooking's classic version.

And, of course, they're a fitting match with yogurt, nuts or seeds, oatmeal, and a bit of honey.

*What not to do.
**That first foray taught me a lesson in fig harvesting — beware of the milky latex contained in the green fig stems.  It can irritate exposed skin, which I learned after developing a pink rash where the latex had dripped onto my hands and arms.  The rash quickly dissipated after I washed up with soap and water.