Fresh Figs

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The Joy of Picking and Eating

Growing up with a fig obsessed mother, (the fruit itself, soaps, candles, bath oils, the works) I have come to think of the fruit as a rare and wonderful thing. The rarity of finding good, ripe figs in english supermarkets also helps along this myth.

This summer I was lucky enough to be invited to a friend's house in the countryside just outside Ferrara for a sunny afternoon and it just so happened that they have an enormous fig tree that was dripping with fruit needing to be picked. 
Picking figs sounds much more romantic than the reality of the operation. Figs are seriously sticky; they ooze a white milk that smells heavenly but clings to skin and clothes and refuses to wash off. Figs also attract insects. Lots of insects; bees, wasps, ants, flies and more. However, balancing on tip toes, barefoot, trying to avoid fallen figs that are being devoured by wasps while getting dripped on by sticky fig milk is definitely worth it when you have a bowl full of them to show for it at the end.

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