“If I should wish a fruit brought to Paradise it would certainly be the fig.” - Prophet Mohammed

We don’t really “do” dessert. We really don’t. If we did we’d probably get a lot more hits from Tastespotting and Foodgawker, since they only seem to post chocolate flavored desserts topped liberally with powdered sugar and sprigs of mint. But bitterness aside, and in a kind of concession to both these photo sites and our own heavy bias towards savory dishes, we decided that it was time to make some sort of dessert, and a summery one at that.

Now, because we’re not bakers of any note, we decided to avoid baking, and indeed, cooking altogether, and simply arranged what nature and the bounty of our local grocery store had provided — namely, figs and greek yogurt decorated with honey and crushed pistachios. About as simple a preparation as you could imagine, right?

Serious About Figs

So, because there’s no recipe to speak of, I need to somehow extend this already overly long post, so here are some interesting tidbits about figs that I certainly wasn’t aware of, and I suspect, if you’re honest, you weren’t either.

Figs are the fruit of the ficus plant, or tree, and if you’ve ever had house plants, you’ll probably have had a ficus. While she was a student, my sister had one that survived heroically for six years on a steady diet of the dregs from cold cups of tea before meeting its tragic Waterloo being pulled out of her third floor window by an adventurous and powerful squirrel.

It is thought that figs (or ficus’) are among the most ancient genuses (genii?) of flowering plants being as much as 80 million years old, so it is little wonder then given the scientific accuracy of the Bible (note: this is irony) that they are described in its pages as the first fruit, and that it is with fig leaves that Adam and Eve hide their nakedness from the good Lord in the book of Genesis. In fact, contributors to the holy book were not the only ones to extol the virtues and practicalities of the fig, Roman poet, Pliny the Elder wrote, “Figs are restorative. They increase the strength of young people, preserve the elderly in better health and make them look younger with fewer wrinkles.”

In the intervening years, a wondrous variety of different kinds of figs have come into being — some through mutation, some by the hand of man, but today in the United States a couple of different kinds of fig predominate. The common or mission, fig is most, err common, and though, with its purple skin and pinky-peach flesh and yellow seeds it is at its best when fresh and ripe, sadly it is most often eaten dried. It was brought to North America by the Spanish and first planted in 1759 at San Diego Mission (hence the name). Later, the Smyrna fig variety arrived in California’s San Joaquin Valley from the eponymous town in modern-day Turkey in 1882 and was renamed Calimyrna later this century in honor of its new homeland. Other relatively easy to find varieties include the Kadota and Adriatic figs, the former is the American varietal of the Italian Dattato and is practically seedless, and the latter, well, is a variety originally from the Croatian coast, and is now very commonly made into, of all things, Fig Newtons.

Other interesting points about figs include: only the female fig is edible, and that figs are not really fruit as such, falling into the category of false fruits, (as indeed do strawberries, and many other berries) because the fig is, in fact, the flower and the seeds it contains are the fruit. Like I said, interesting, right? What? oh…

Anyway, it’s fig season right now through the end of September, so go get yourself some and enjoy them as if they were the first fruit! We have entered this simple and easy recipe in A Southern Grace’s Beat the Heat event since this is a great thing to make when it’s boiling hot outside.

Recipe (if you must have one) serves 4

12 ripe mission/common figs, split and spread as above

6-10oz plain Greek yogurt

2-3 tbsp runny honey

2 tbsp crushed pistachios

Assemble all these on plate and enjoy, perhaps with a chilled glass of dessert wine. We think something like a Pedro Ximenez or Moscatell would be rather nice.

Check out some other posts you may enjoy:

• CACIO E PEPE: SPAGHETTI WITH PECORINO AND BLACK PEPPER ROMAN-STYLE
• KILLING ANIMALS: HOW DO YOU REALLY FEEL ABOUT IT?
• JAMAICAN JERK CHICKEN WITH RICE AND PEA
• GRILLED STEAK WITH TARRAGON GARLIC BUTTER
• MASHED YUCA WITH SOUR ORANGE AND ALLSPICE

In my mind though, any sweet recipe that goes up on this blog – no matter how easy – represents a victory since both my wife and I are poor bakers, so I’m posting this recipe for cranberry flapjacks anyway and to hell with the seasons!

Flapjacks remind me of my late mother as they were an old favorite of hers that she often made for when we came home from college or weekends, and we’d sit with her and catch up over flapjacks and a cup of tea. These turned out really well (they are dead easy to make) and I’m sure my mum would be proud of me.

UPDATE BY THE AMERICAN:  Just like I scratched my head in curious wonder when I first noticed that the English term for flapjack was very different from what I knew of flapjack,  so were many of our readers.  So, I realized we need to add a bit of history here.  According to research, in the US, the term flapjack dates back to the early 1600′s.  This is the second oldest term to describe what we also know as pancakes here in the US (which is the earliest term, coined around the 14th century).  We also have the good ‘ole American term johnnycake (Soprano’s fans?  Remember that hot scene between a sweaty, hairy fat Vito and his sweet Johnnycake near the motorcycle? Sexy!) or hoecake (love this one).  In the UK, a flapjack is a tray bake made of oats, fat and sugar and often syrup or honey.  They range from being soft and moist to dry and crisp (like this recipe) and are eaten as an alternative to a biscuit (cookie).  Also, a pancake in the UK is kind of different from our pancakes here (they are much thinner and lighter).  Check out our post on Pancake Day for some delicious UK pancake recipes.  To the English, a flapjack and a pancake are two completely different things.  To Americans, they are interchangeable.

Wikipedia does a good job of explaining the bottom line:  The word flap- meaning a tossed mixture and jack, an uncertain word suggesting a variety, imply any ingredients could be called a flapjack.  To me, this explains why the word flapjack can basically be anything that is both tossed and with a variety of ingredients.  Salad = Flapjacks?  I’m still confused.

Cranberry (Craisin) Flapjacks

Ingredients

• 3½ oz (100g) butter, plus a bit extra to grease your brownie pan
• 2½ oz (75g) light brown sugar (muscovado)
• 3 good tbsp runny honey
• 12oz (350g) porridge (Quaker) oats
• pinch of salt
• 3½ oz (100g) dried cranberries (craisins)
• 1 banana, mashed (optional)

Recipe

• Preheat oven to 350F (180C) and lightly butter a 10 x 10 or 10 x 12 inch brownie pan
• Melt butter gently in a saucepan and mix in sugar and honey.
• Then add oats and salt. Stir well.
• Add cranberries (and banana) and stir well again.
• Turn mixture into brownie pan and press down so surface is smooth and mixture is evenly spread.
• Bake for 20-25 minutes or until oats are golden brown and crispy.
• Allow to cool for 10 minutes, but cut into squares while still warm.
• Store in an airtight jar or tin. They keep very nicely and continue to develop their chewiness for a while.

Check out some other posts you may enjoy:

• BROILED MISO-GLAZED SALMON WITH SOBA NOODLES
• SANDWICH DE MERGUEZ (BAGUETTE FILLED WITH MERGUEZ SAUSAGE, FRENCH FRIES AND FRIED LEEKS)
• CREAMY LEMON PASTA
• TOAD-IN-THE-HOLE (Sausages Nested in Batter)
• ENSALADA DE CABRALES (Thin Sliced Apple and Cabrales Cheese Salad w/ Vinaigrette)
• AVGOLEMONO SOUP (Greek Lemon-Egg Chicken Soup w/ Orzo)

That day, my friend and I popped into said pub and sought something warming to take the chill off. The specials’ board told of a “South African hot toddy” – something I had never heard of. I was familiar, as many of us are, with the typical hot toddy – whiskey or brandy, with hot water, sugar and lemon juice, (and there are many variations on that theme – some including tea, some not) but this one contained brandy, hot water, ginger, rooibosh (red bush) tea, honey and lemon juice, the rooibosh tea making it particularly South African. It was delicious, simultaneously intoxicating, soothing and warming. The ginger and lemon enlivened the sense and the palate, the red bush tea is a restorative, the honey offered energy, and the brandy rounded everything out with a boozy smoothness that engendered warmth and relaxation. After two, or was it three, of them, we were ready to venture home in the cold, but instead, and very mistakenly, decided to have a go at ice-skating. We didn’t break any limbs or endanger anyone with our drunken attempts at toe-loops and salcos (we were the only ones on the ice), but when the alcohol wore off and the bruises came through, it became clear that it had been a mistake.

However, the drink really is a treat if you’ve got chill in your bones you just can’t shake, just please don’t go ice-skating afterwards. Before perhaps, but definitely not after.

South African Hot Toddies Recipe (serves two):

4oz brandy (doesn’t have to be good stuff ’cause you’re adding lots of flavor to it)
10oz boiling water
2 bags or 2tbsp red bush tea
4oz lemon juice (juice of 2 or 3 lemons)
4tbsp runny (clear) honey
2tbsp ginger root (stem ginger), sliced into thin rounds

Divide brandy, lemon juice and honey into two mugs. Toss in the ginger and red bush tea. Fill mugs up with hot water and stir vigorously until honey has mixed in and you can smell the ginger. Allow to steep for three to four minutes before removing red bush tea bags (or tea strainer with loose tea), put your feet up and enjoy!

P.S. – in case you were wondering, like I was, why it’s called a hot toddy, here’s what I found the explanation to be. During the British Raj in India, the British came upon a sweet sap, and a liquor fermented from the sap, from tropical Asian palm trees (the so-called toddy palm – genus Borassus), called toddy by the locals. The British then added this sap to their cups of tea as a sweetener, making it a hot toddy. In many cases, the fermented sap (which was alcoholic) was also added to these cups of tiffin. British sailors (who are not famous tee-totallers) picked up on this idea and began making their cups of tea in this way, substituting the sugar and their rations of rum for the toddy. Quite how whiskey or brandy became involved, I didn’t discover, but there you are, a little history with your recipe.