Fig leaves in September
This year we have enjoyed a fugue of figs. A rich repetition on the theme of gathering. Starting in August in some of the higher-ranged branches and progressing to all parts of the large fig tree that grows against the well of the vegetable garden. Fig leaves almost two dimensional and unnatural with their rasping texture. Leaves with their rounded lobed fingers - hand sized, but then hands are so many sizes . Curtaining the hidden crop of figs. And now in late September I part that curtain of leaves and step into an otherworldly green space. With my back to the high south-facing granite wall I can gaze out through the various shades of green and look up and around the interweaving branches seeking hidden figs. Minim heavy, a voluptuous handful. That gentle upward tug to remove them from their place. Some have started to split, too plump for their purple striped skins. Those beyond ripe are a treat for the four hens to fight over, a few have already been three quarters devoured, by birds perhaps or wasps?
DH Lawrence’s poem Figs, published in his 1923 collection of poems, Birds, Beasts, and Flowers reminds us that:
The fig is a very secretive fruit.
As you see it standing growing, you feel at once it is symbolic:
And it seems male.
But when you come to know it better, you agree with the Romans, it is female.
The Italians vulgarly say, it stands for the female part; the fig-fruit:
The fissure, the yoni,
The wonderful moist conductivity towards the centre.
This poem is, of course, echoed in Ken Russel’s 1969 film ‘Women in Love’ . Watching it as a young adolescent in the 1970s the discourse on ways of eating a fig by Rupert as he observes Hermione seemed so risqué. Fifty years later I realise this fig tree was probably planted in the seventies and has continued to delight with fugal but sometimes frugal harvests ever since. Reading the poem again now the meanings multiply to suggest a fruit that can be considered both male and female.
Perhaps our favourite recipe is to quarter and stew six or seven figs with the zest and juice of an orange, a spoonful of brown sugar and half a teaspoon of ground cardamon seeds. They only take 5-10 minutes and then they are delicious with home-made granola and Greek yoghurt or ricotta for breakfast. I also tried a Diana Henry recipe that involved roasting shallots (with olive oil, balsamic and rosemary) for 20 minutes and then adding chestnuts and figs for five minutes and using this as a topping for polenta and blue cheese with the dish being placed in the oven for the last 15 minutes. To be honest it was a bit too rich for the two of us although a young friend devoured our leftovers the next day!