i start craving california every time i eat figs. it seems hard to believe that just a few years back we were living in a lovely house in the bay area which had a fabulous view of emerald hills, lots of sunshine, a great deck, a six person jacuzzi on the deck and several fruit trees (oranges, lemons) including a very special fig tree.
we were renting from a wonderful man called gabe who over the four years that we lived there became a dear friend. i'll never forget how gabe offered me lemon juice and figs from the tree when we first saw the place and loved it immediately. it wasn't until we moved in that it registered to me that the lemons and figs grew in the backyard! gabe was the one who got me hooked on making fig jam which i dilligently did every summer that i lived in california. i continued the tradition in new york though it just wasn't the same. i missed picking the figs from the tree and getting my fingers all sticky from the milk oozing out.
i so miss making bottles of fig jam for my friends. h was always fighting to keep all the jars at home and not give them away because he loved the jam so much. i used the jam in many different ways. on toasted waffles for a quick energy blast in the mornings. on a baguette with manchego cheese and greens at lunch. with crackers and gooey brie for a cocktail. with crispy dosas for a light dinner.
in case i've inspired you to make some fig jam, here's my trusted recipe that i found on epicurious five years ago: