Lucky dip - figs
"There can be few greater pleasures in life than a fig. Not a dreary, brown, medicine-sweet disc of pressed dried fig, full of tiny little teeth-sticking seeds, but a perfectly ripe fresh fig, split to reveal its inner red secrets and glistening with a dew as sweet as honeysuckle." Greg Malouf
I was going to go for a topic on my long list, but it turned out to be larger than I thought, and so I gave up and went for the lucky dip instead. Lazy of me I know but it's that sort of day. The book I chose was one of those little freebies you get with magazines - this one was from Gourmet Traveller, back in 2003 and featured a whole lot of recipes that were 'spanish inspired'. The recipe was chicken with sweet and sour figs, and I'll give it at the end of this article, but the main thrust of this post will be rambling on about figs.
Let me say at the outset that I don't like figs, though I do think they look beautiful. Those tiny little dried figs can be nice, but I wouldn't seek them out. And this is yet another of those instances that mark me out as a pleb - not as a gourmet - because just about every food writer raves on about them - not to mention the poetry that has been written about them down the ages. I shall scatter some of the quotes I found around the post.
It is, of course an ancient fruit. It originated in the middle-east. Of course it did - the fig tree features in the story of Adam and Eve who use it's leaves to cover their nakedness. Indeed there is one theory that says that Eve offered Adam a fig not an apple. And it is certainly a very sensuous looking fruit so it would make sense for it to be the fruit on the Tree of Knowledge. And there are lots of other myths and legends about it.
"Their glossy, shapely leaves ... are associated with modesty, because they cover the blushes of many a classical statue. And yet the luscious, succulent "fruit" itself is provocatively, fleshily, immodestly sexy." Hugh Fearnley- Whittingstall
The trees are found all over the Mediterranean. I fondly remember one that sheltered the terrace of one of our first French holiday homes. Here we are eating dinner in its shade.
We went there again two years later and the fig tree had been either viciously chopped back or removed completely. I can't quite remember which now - cut back I think. I am assuming that this was because like Nigel Slater's fig tree:
"Now 30ft high and almost as wide, the tree teases us with never-ripening fruits, or bombards the garden with jam-like falling bombs as the mood takes it. It has become a monster, producing too much shade and in autumn an avalanche of sodden brown leaves." Nigel Slater
He, of course is talking about England, but in the Mediterranean the fruit ripens alright. Indeed in Montclus there were those 'jam-like falling bombs' all over the place. It seems that they are generally very prolific and don't last long on the tree. So generally if you have a fig tree you get a complete glut - that mostly falls on the floor (here in Australia, as Maggie Beer bemoans - you have to be quick or the birds will get them). Though I don't notice this translating into really cheap prices for figs in the shops or the market. Mind you it's probably not a huge crop in Australia. We have our own native figs - the most spectacular of which is the Moreton Bay fig. Well the tree is. The fruit can be eaten, but I don't believe it is much prized. The tree is amazing though and can be found in many of Melbourne's beautiful city parks.
The fruit of the Mediterranean kind of tree, can be eaten when just fresh and green, when darker and purply, then dried or semi-dried. But I gather it doesn't travel very well. Unlike some fruit it has to be picked ripe and then only lasts a few days. So you have to choose carefully.
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"A great fig should look like it's just about to burst its skin. When squeezed lightly it should give a little and not spring back. It must be almost unctuously sweet, soft and wet." Yotam Ottolenghi
Maybe it's the dried ones that put me off. For school dinners we used to get served a revolting pudding that included figs. And I think one of those fruit parcels we used to get at Christmas had dried figs in it and whereas I liked the dates I really didn't like the figs. And when It think about it it might be the texture rather than the taste. Sort of gritty. For the fig is not technically a fruit.
"Strictly speaking, they're not really a fruit at all, rather a cluster of more than a thousand tiny flowers that blossom unseen beneath the silky skin and then go on to produce the "fruitlets", or seeds" Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall
Curiouser and curiouser. There's a lot of weird and wonderful stuff out there in the world of fruit and vegetables. You can, of course, just eat it as it is - and I think this is mostly what people do but it's also cooked in lots of different ways. Chefs love them.
"I can't take a whole fig and eat it on its own, as I would a peach or mango. It's just too much. However, in conjunction with other things, the fig is the most incredible fruit, worthy of its special, mythological status". Yotam Ottolenghi
These days it is incredibly trendy - from the very simple pairing with parma ham, to elaborate puddings, ice creams and meat dishes with figs in them. Not to mention jam and chutney and suchlike. And this recipe that my fingers alighted on and the inspiration for this post, is one of them.
CHICKEN WITH SWEET AND SOUR FIGS serves 4
4 chicken breast fillets, about 180g each
2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
1 tablespoon finely chopped rosemary
Olive oil
150ml verjuice
Baby endive and wild rocket salad, to serve
Sweet and sour figs
1/4 cup sherry vinegar
1/4 cup aged red vinegar
125ml verjuice
110g (1/2 cup) caster sugar
1 wide strip of lemon rind
1 stick of cinnamon
1 sprig of rosemary
8 figs, halved lengthways
Cut each chicken breast in half crosswise, then cover with a sheet of plastic wrap and using the flat side of a meat mallet, flatten to 5mm thickness. Combine, chicken, garlic, 3 teaspoons rosemary and 1 tablespoon oil in a ceramic or glass bowl. Season to taste with sea salt and finely ground black pepper, then cover and refrigerate for at least 15 minutes.
For sweet and sour figs, pale vinegars, and verjuice in a heavy-based saucepan add sugar, lemon rind, cinnamon stick and rosemary and bring to the boil over medium heat, stirring until sugar dissolves. Simmer for 10 minutes, then gently add figs, reduce heat to low and cook for 4 minutes or until figs are just tender. Remove from heat and stand figs in syrup.
Heat a heavy-based frypan over high heat until hot, add 1 tablespoon oil and cook chicken for 2 minutes on each side, then remove from pan. Add remaining rosemary to pan and cook for 1 minute, then add verjuice, scraping bottom of pan to remove cooked pieces, and simmer for 2-3 minutes or until lightly reduced and syrupy. Return chicken to pan and cook for 1 minute or until cooked through.
Seve chicken drizzled with pan juices and topped with warm sweet and sour figs, with baby endive and wild rocket salad passed separately.
A typical gourmet dish really - fancy sounding with fancy ingredients but really pretty simple. I don't think you would open a modern cookbook without at least one recipe that included figs.
Then there's that saying "I couldn't give a fig!" I tried to find where that came from but couldn't really make much sense out of what I found.
“To eat figs off the tree in the very early morning, when they have been barely touched by the sun, is one of the exquisite pleasures of the Mediterranean.” ― Elizabeth David, An Omelette and a Glass of Wine
