The last fig of summer

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    For generations, the passing of summer has been romantically marked by the last rose. But for me, at least since I moved to California a couple decades ago, it has been the departure of something more edible.

    Last week I picked the last fig off a Malibu friend’s bountifully producing tree. Too bountiful, in fact; for fig lovers who have their own trees, summer can seem like an endless effort, racing to beat birds to the sweet fruit (in my friend’s case, a squad of squawking wild parrots).

    Nevertheless, I harvested enough to indulge my passion for the fruit, at least for a couple months.

    With my love of figs I share a passion for the fruit that goes back to biblical times (they were particularly prized by the Egyptians 6,000 years ago, and were a staple of the common man and woman’s diet in ancient Rome and Greece).

    Although creationists and evolutionists may disagree about how everything began, most would agree that it was certainly not an apple with which the serpent tempted Eve in the Garden of Eden. Since no self-respecting apple tree would think of growing in a desert, any fruit Adam and Eve could have eaten would have been a date or, more likely, a fig. And, of course, fig leaves came so conveniently designed to cover one’s, uh, privates, in those pre-Armani and Donna Karan days.

    In California, the early Franciscan missionaries brought figs along with Christianity, first planting them at the Mission San Diego in 1769 and from thence, up the Camino Real. Those figs, now called “Black Missions,” were California’s only crop until the middle of the last century, when immigrants introduced other varieties of the several hundred known.

    Although their popularity has gone up and down over the years, figs, especially fresh, are very much “in” these days, thanks to the popularity of California cuisine, with its lighter spin and intensified taste.

    But now that the season is ending, what does a fig lover do?

    Well, if you’re lucky enough to find some still on a tree or in the market, grab them. But remember, fresh figs, like most fresh fruits, are best when their presentation is kept as simple as possible. Halve them and wrap with paper-thin prosciutto for a memorable hors d’oeuvre; quarter them, place atop some pastry cream in a baked tart shell and glaze with apple jelly for a stunning dessert, or sumptuously breakfast on them accompanied by some tart Bulgarian yogurt and strong black coffee.

    But if you can’t find any fresh figs, cope as most Mediterranean and Near Eastern peoples have for millennia: stock the larder with dried figs and apply a little imagination.

    Fig recipes

    Roast Chicken Stuffed with Figs and Wild Rice

    3/4 cup (dry measure) wild rice, cooked until nearly done in water or light chicken stock

    1 large onion, peeled and chopped

    1/2 cup chopped Italian parsley

    12 dried figs (Smyrna or its local adaptation, the Calimyrna, are the best dried; use more if they are small) cut into medium dice (be sure to trim the tough stem end)

    4 tablespoons butter

    salt and pepper

    1 large roasting chicken (6-8 pounds)

    Saut onion in 2 tablespoons of the butter and season to taste with salt and pepper. When cool, stir in diced figs and parsley. Stuff chicken (previously brought to room temperature), place on a greased rack and put it in an oven preheated to 450 degrees.

    Immediately reduce temperature to 350 degrees and roast until done (20 minutes per pound for a 6 pound bird, 15 minutes per pound for larger, or until meat thermometer placed between thigh and body of the chicken reads 190 degrees). Baste often with pan juices. If breast browns too much, cover loosely with foil during last 30 or 45 minutes of cooking.

    Let chicken rest on rack for 15 minutes after roasting and place on a serving platter. Skim fat from pan drippings, deglaze with 1/4 cup port or sherry and 1/2 cup chicken stock. Reduce somewhat and swirl in 2 tablespoons butter. Adjust seasoning and serve.

    Dried Figs Stuffed with Walnuts and Dipped in Chocolate (great for a gift)

    3 ounces toasted walnuts (toast in 350 degree oven for 5 minutes or until fragrant)

    2 ounces ricotta cheese

    1 teaspoon finely grated orange zest

    2 teaspoons powdered sugar

    1 pound dried figs (again, Smyrna or Calimyrna are the most succulent dried)

    4 ounces bittersweet chocolate, melted

    In a bowl, make a paste of the walnuts, cheese, zest and sugar. With a sharp knife make a slit in the wide end of each fig. Place a couple teaspoons of the walnut paste in the fig and press the cut edges together to seal. Holding the fig by the stem, dip it halfway into the melted chocolate and set on a cooling rack to dry. (From The California-American Cookbook by Jeannette Ferrary and Louise Fiszer)