Fig is one of the distinguishing scents and tastes of life in summer Provence.
Our garden is permeated with this fresh lovely fragrance.
There are some tastes and smells that never grow old or un-loved.
Fig is one of them.
I wait patiently for the fig tree to fruit at our farm… refusing to buy them or eat them out of season.
Silly I know. The world waits for nothing these days and fruit and vegetables are no different.
I love their succulence and generosity, their sweetness and texture.
I will eat them for breakfast with a scoop of yogurt and for lunch with a drizzle of thickened balsamic and a large helping of rocket salad.
Before dinner I like to serve them as an aperitif with a dollop of creamy goats cheese and a drizzle of lavender honey.
I sometimes romanticise that figs are other worldly, they are far too perfect in so many ways… but then, nature does know best.
Inside our farmhouse I am burning Diptyque’s figuier candle… it is the closest candle I have found to the real thing.
The scent is absolutely beautiful for this time of year.
I fill my bath with the Philosykos Gel.
I am reminded of the freshness of the fig leaf, the aroma of the fruit and the milkiness of the sap as the fig falls away from the stem.
Am I going overboard with fig? Always…
Do you have any fabulous fig recipes to share?
