In 2021, I discovered figs, and I wrote about it here. Where have figs been all my life? I asked. A generous neighbor had a productive fig tree and over the next few Augusts, I made fig tarts (pictured above), fig cake (gift link to the recipe in the New York Times – you’re welcome), and fig-lemon preserves (recipe from my mom’s head. And I ate figs. My goodness. Figs are great.
But then this year I moved. There are fig trees here, too, just six miles south of my old place. As the end of July approaches, the fruit is bulging, still green, on fig trees in my neighbors’ front yards…but I’ve barely met any neighbors yet, and none that have offered me fruit. I’ve figured out where I can harvest some other things – a sidewalk herb garden with a sign telling passersby to pick what we need, for example. Several neighbors have rosemary bushes, and once I saw an older gentleman slow down, look around furtively, grab some basil from a front-yard bush, shove it in a plastic bag, and scoot.
I’ve tracked down one fig tree that isn’t on private property and I plan to walk by and check on it in the coming weeks.
In my old neighborhood, I knew where to find garlic mustard and persimmons, and who would give me mint from their garden (everyone! mint grows like a weed!). And I knew the buildings and the trees and the people, too.
I’m sure my old neighbor will let me stop by and harvest her figs, if it’s a good year. And some day I hope my new neighborhood can provide everything my old neighborhood could.
Photo: Helen Fields, obviously
Fig-lemon preserve recipe? (beseeching eyes)
In possible exchange, Nik Sharma’s pomegranate and fig jam recipe, which I have made several times and struggle not to eat half a jar at a sitting. Goes fabulously with any cheese. https://niksharmacooks.com/fig-and-pomegranate-jam-with-cardamom-and-pepper/