Gastronomic Meditations: Felicia's Fignolias

Keddy lives in Houston. Her Celeste fig bears a fair-sized crop each year, and she always tells me about it. Envious, I listen. Barbara lives down the road from me in Meadowview; her Chicago fig, suitable for our Appalachian climate, produces an abundance of figlets that ripen minutes before first frost. Susan in South Carolina has a Brown Turkey that I visit when I’m down south, even if Susan isn’t home. Once I snitched a plump fig.

My Brown Turkey is the biggest tree of all; it has a place of honor in my front yard, right smack dab in the middle of the yard. Every year, its branches reach up even higher, and the leaves get even bigger than the year before; my fig tree could clothe all of Paradise. The problem is that it can’t feed a soul. (read more)

Recipe: Caramelized Fig Spread

Fresh figs are already sweet and delicious on their own. However, we prefer to roast them under the broiler with a light coating of sugar to enhance their richness and make them easier to blend with other luscious ingredients. This fig spread can be served with an assortment of crackers and toast points as well as over slices of roasted pork or a succulent grilled steak.

Recipe: Seared Duck Breast with a Figged Port Demi-Glace

This dish is deceptively simple, and is a great technique for preparing duck breast with any kind of sauce. We think the port pairs so well with the richness of the duck, and who can resist a dish with figs? Serve over a disc of polenta pan-fried in a little hazelnut oil and a simple salad of mixed greens for an exquisite meal.

gilded fork, recipe, duck breast, figs, port

Gastronomic Meditations: Felicia's Fignolias

Keddy lives in Houston. Her Celeste fig bears a fair-sized crop each year, and she always tells me about it. Envious, I listen. Barbara lives down the road from me in Meadowview; her Chicago fig, suitable for our Appalachian climate, produces an abundance of figlets that ripen minutes before first frost. Susan in South Carolina has a Brown Turkey that I visit when I’m down south, even if Susan isn’t home. Once I snitched a plump fig.

My Brown Turkey is the biggest tree of all; it has a place of honor in my front yard, right smack dab in the middle of the yard. Every year, its branches reach up even higher, and the leaves get even bigger than the year before; my fig tree could clothe all of Paradise. The problem is that it can’t feed a soul. (read more)


gilded fork, food, food writing, figs