The Sweetness of Figs

 Sujata Massey

Fall is almost here, but nature is having a last hurrah. In Maryland and the states nearby, farmstands are loaded with corn and tomatoes. Peaches are ripe and a second harvest of raspberries looms. For me, the fruit that’s calling out the loudest is the simple brown fig.

 

Figs are said to originated in Asia Minor, an area in Turkey’s north: a meeting place for European and Asian travelers. The fruit can be grown from a cut twig—so it was easy to propagate and spread worldwide. In Baltimore, Maryland, many Italian and Greek immigrants planted fig trees on the small patches of land outside their rowhouses and cottages. As their trees grew, they shared branches with neighbors.

 

This practice even continues today. On Deepdene Avenue, a small street filled with small Victorian cottages, my neighbors Prem and Anand admired a robust fig tree across the street. Their neighbor gave them a cutting. Ten years later, their own handsome fig tree towers over the roses and vegetables growing in their back yard. Hundreds of figs are produced each year: more than enough for them and the local birds. This meant that yesterday, Prem and Anand walked Deepdene with bags of figs that they dropped to ten households. They’ve made me and other friends feel welcome to come and pick figs when I want. 

 

The average fig tree takes three to five years to start bearing fruit; and some can live as long as 200 years. In the novel by Eli Shafak, The Island of Missing Trees a beautifully sheltering fig tree is one of the story's narrators. She is a cutting transported from Cyprus to England, where she is planted and tended by an immigrant family who holds pain of the past. 

Very likely the brown Turkey fig came to India via traders or during the Mughal Empire, because you can find sweets and chutneys made from the fruit in India. However, South Asia has its own indigenous fig tree: the mighty and mystical banyan. A bright red-pink variety of figs grows in thick clusters on banyan trees (Ficus Benghalensus) that are enjoyed by birds, not humans. 

The fig tree that’s now native to my neighborhood is the aforementioned brown Turkey fig, a fruit that does not require wasp pollination. Thus, these are considered “vegetarian” figs as opposed to “carnivorous” figs like Smyrna and San Pedro that have the remnants of dead wasps inside. But don't be frightened! The insects have been almost absorbed by enzymes and are both invisible and don't affect taste.

 

What to do with an over-abundance of figs? Prem freezes her figs in plastic bags and uses later for baking. Here we are together, and a closeup of Prem's famous fig cake.

In the past I’ve frozen several small fig-almond meal cakes, and they’ve defrosted nicely.  This year, I decided I wanted to make fig chutneys. It’s simple enough to wash the figs and chuck them into a pot with a small amount of onion, ginger, sugar, vinegar and spices. What emerged tasted a lot like a classic sweet mango chutney. 

 

Two days later, Prem had more figs for me.  I altered the recipe slightly to be more like hers: including half of a tart Granny Smith apple. The result was a different texture and the sweetness was cut very slightly. Either chutney is delicious on a cheese sandwich or a charcuterie board, if you’re not using it alongside grilled meat or on a plate alongside curries, rice and dal. Small amounts of chutney can be used in marinades, glazes, and dishes like chicken salad. Chutney freezes well and makes a meal taste like early Fall sweetness, no matter the time of year.

 

Fig Chutney (makes approximately 2 cups)

 

1 ½ tablespoons neutral oil such as avocado, sunflower or canola

½ tsp cumin seeds

¼ tsp fennel seeds

¼ tsp mustard seeds (yellow or brown)

½ cup finely chopped red onion or shallots

1 tablespoon grated or finely chopped gingerroot

Approximately 25 figs, washed, stemmed and cut in half

½ teaspoon garam masala powder (homemade is great, and I like the brands Frontier and Spicewalla)

¼-1/2 teaspoon red chili flakes*

¾ teaspoon fine salt

3 tablespoons brown sugar (I use coconut sugar or jaggery, Indian unrefined cane sugar)

½ tablespoon vinegar (apple cider, sherry or wine vinegar, or plain all work fine)

½ cup water

 

1. Heat a stainless steel or ceramic-interior medium sized cooking pot or Dutch oven to medium heat. When warm, add the oil, followed by the seeds. T
2. When the mustard seeds start to pop, add the chopped onion and ginger. Sautee until soft (but not browned).
3. Add the figs and all the spices, sugar and vinegar and the ½ cup of water. Sautee uncovered, stirring occasionally, on a low flame. Toward the 20-minute mark, you'll notice the chutney becoming dry. Add a few tablespoons of water to avoid burning and break up the fig halves with your wooden spoon. Cook approximately 25 minutes or until the hot mixture resembles a thick chutney. Turn off heat, cool, and put in a clean jar. Refrigerate and eat within the next 3 weeks. Freeze chutney in plastic containers or bag for later use.

 

 

 

*Chili flakes can be omitted entirely or substituted with other items you may have on hand. Try a chopped fresh red chili, a whole dried red chili, chili crisp, or cayenne powder. In every case, start with a small amount and taste the chutney in the last 5 minutes of cooking time to see if you want to add more of a kick.

 

Fig-Apple Chutney Variation: To the recipe listed above, add one half-cup of small-diced Granny Smith apple, or another tart cooking apple. You can cut the figs to 20—or even less. Do as you like, because chutney is most forgiving.  

Here are pictures of the chutney as it starts out in the pot, followed by chutney that is ready for bottling.