It’s fig season on Maui.
I know, for my fig tree has been oozing half-a-dozen to a dozen maroon parcels every day. I can see them ripen before my very eyes!
Today, I counted 1.5 dozen.
In Chinese, they are called wu hua guo 無花菓 which translates to “no flower fruit” or “fruit without flowers.” Unlike papaya and other fruit that flower first, figs don’t.
They just get born.
Recall fig leaves from the little ones that cover the naked Greek and Roman statues. The fig leaves on my tree are ten times bigger. In fact, the green fruit get hidden in the leaves.
When I first discovered that the bush next to the staircase into my garden was a fig tree a few years ago, I began to research what to do with its purple fruit. They are extremely good in salads and with cooked liver.
Apparently, figs are highly nutritious, full of anti-oxidants, fiber, and other low-calorie magic. Fresh figs help balance a salty diet, ease arthritic pain, and flush the colon for bowel movement. So my mother tells me. It also retards aging.
When I brought them to work, not everyone knew what to do with them.
Most people, I learned, had never seen or eaten a fresh fig.
“Do I peel off the skin?”
“No, just bite into it. You can eat the whole thing.”
Fresh figs are softer than dried figs and not as sweet.
On the advice of a colleague, I make a ritual of cutting it in half, spreading it with blue cheese, and wrapping it in a thin slice of prosciutto. It’s refreshing as appetizer with chilled white wine.
In the mornings, I cut one or two figs into tiny pieces and sprinkle them on oatmeal or cereal. Another variation is to eat them raw with papaya from my garden.
Spotting ripe figs, climbing and maneuvering myself into the tree to pluck them before the birds get to them has become a favorite pastime. I feel like a teenager on a treasure hunt. Needless to say, I will miss this activity after the fig season.