“Breakfast at nine. Green figs. Yoghurt. Coffee. Very black.”
--James Bond in From Russia with Love (1963)
Let’s get one thing straight: there’s only one Bond. Sean Connery, of course. Only he could order breakfast from room service in that steely burr and make it sound like a threat and a caress.
Breakfast with Bond—this time he was in Istanbul—would send a few shivers up the spine. You’d find yourself on your back, pressed against a cold tile floor, though it’s hard to say whether you’d be dodging an assassin’s bullet or murmuring “Take me around the world again, James.” (This from Dr. Holly Goodhead—played by Lois Chiles, actually a high school classmate of mine--in Moonraker, 1979.)
But let’s talk about the breakfast, which you can have in the relative safety of your own kitchen. Right now the Marseilles fig tree I planted near the porch four years ago is sprouting small hard green figs. The Marseilles was Thomas Jefferson’s favorite—he planted it in the South Orchard at Monticello and called it “the finest fig I’ve ever seen.”
If you have ever tasted one, you will know why. When it ripens, almost overnight, the fruit softens and swells to three times its size. Plucked sun-warmed from the tree, the now yellowish Marseilles has a pale, pearly sheen. Drops of milky sap rise from the broken stem. Now bite into one. Engorged with sweetness, the pale pink flesh is utterly seductive, with a luscious honeyed flavor.
I can’t imagine a more perfect breakfast, especially if, like Bond, you eat the fresh figs with a small bowl of thick, tangy Greek yoghurt and a pot of strong coffee.
If you don’t have a tree, you can probably buy fresh figs in your farmer’s market or at the grocery store during the summer. While I’m waiting for our own fruit to ripen, I’ve been paying ridiculous amounts of money for lime green Calimyrna figs from Whole Foods. Calimyrna figs originally came from Turkey, where they were grown in the Menander Valley, but they arrived in California in the 1880’s and are now cultivated for fresh and dried fruit.
Although the Calimyrna is good—some say it tastes like a banana, others call its pale flesh nutty, neither of which seems right to me—the skin can be tough and the fruit somewhat unyielding since they are picked before they are fully ripe.
The best way to cure the problem is to gently stew the figs until they become soft and succulent. Leafing through Christine Ferber’s cookbook, Mes Confitures, I came across a simple recipe for fig jam with vanilla, sugar and lemon juice. Ferber lives in Alsace and she makes her delicious small batch jams with perfect summer fruit, in this case luscious purple-skinned Bourjasotte figs. Never mind. Not so perfect green skinned Calimyrna figs are wonderful cooked in honey with a vanilla bean, a strip or two of lemon zest and a sprig of lemon thyme.
Now all you need is yoghurt and black coffee. And Bond.
To read more about figs, see "In the Garden: Figs" by Carol Williams (House and Garden, September 2007, pp. 145-147; 227. The Marseilles fig can be ordered from Edible Landscaping in Afton, Virginia.
Green Figs Stewed in Honey with Vanilla, Lemon Zest and Thyme
Can't wait till breakfast? This also makes a delectable summer dessert.
To serve two
Ingredients:
2 tablespoons honey
1 tablespoon water
1 6-inch vanilla bean (I prefer Mexican)
2 or 3 strips of lemon zest
1 sprig of lemon thyme (or any other thyme)
8 ounces fresh Calimyrna or other green-skinned figs
Method:
1. Rinse the figs and pinch off the stems. Cut them in half and set aside.
2. Split the vanilla bean in half lengthwise and cut each half into 2 or 3 pieces.
3. In a small saucepan, combine the honey, water, vanilla bean and lemon zest over the lowest flame. Stir to dissolve the honey and turn off the heat. Add the figs, gently toss them in the honey mixture, and let them macerate, covered, for an hour.
4. After an hour, add the lemon thyme. Turn the heat to very low and gently simmer the figs for 30 to 40 minutes, turning them carefully so that they don’t fall apart but are just cooked through. Remove the pan from the heat and let them cool to room temperature.
5. You can eat the figs now if you like, but they are even better if you leave them overnight to soak up the syrupy vanilla and lemon-infused juices they have exuded. To serve, divide the figs between two bowls and spoon their pale pink syrup over them. Serve with Greek yoghurt, of course, and coffee. Very black.