I cannot get them out of my head.
There are several reasons for my fig fixation:
- In ALL of my many childhood homes, the gardens contained fig trees. Which I climbed. To pick, and of course, eat the figs. There is nothing more delicious than scrumping for figs.
- They are a very sexy fruit. Look at this snap and tell me it is not erotic?
- They are in season at the moment. I pace around my local streets every morning, and see fig trees in all of the gardens, netted to save themselves from birds, heavy with ripening fig fruit. (I love that I live in an area that, only 30 years ago, was given over to market gardens. And that this vibe of slow food has stuck. And that I cover so many miles on my morning runs to notice. Thank Goddess for that.)
- My friend has the surname Fico, which means "fig", apparently, in Italian. She used to use "ripe & exotic" as a pick up trick. That is so cool.
And then I realise that no matter how good all the recipe hits may appear, a salad is the absolute maximum interference that these divine fruit need.
Baked Goat's Cheese & Fig Salad Recipe - Taste.com.au
Aside from that, a bowl of figs and a knife would be all I actually need. Actually, it was all I needed. I just ate 6!