Fig leaves, carefully folded into little square envelopes—Caren Durante remembers receiving the precious bundles from her Aunt Angelina Pavan. Inside each leafy package was a perfectly ripe fig, grown on her aunt’s Burnaby backyard tree. What stays with Caren is not only the thrill of opening the lovingly wrapped gift, but also the simple enjoyment of eating the sweet, ripe fig within.
It’s a pleasure that is becoming better known. While dried figs are sold all year round, imported fresh figs appear in the produce section only from mid-summer to early fall—a small basket priced anywhere from $3.00 to $7.00. At roughly the same time, the ripe fruit can be picked by the pound in our own neighbourhoods, often from trees planted by European immigrants nostalgic for the foods of their home countries.
Fig trees were part of life in the small Italian town where Sam Grandinetti was born. After immigrating to Canada, he took cuttings from trees in his friend’s Strathcona garden. Those cuttings have grown into the 50-year-old fig trees now thriving in Mr. Grandinetti’s well-tended East Vancouver garden. He and his family enjoy the figs fresh; any extra are stewed into a jammy compote or frozen to eat later as fruity popsicles. The Grandinettis are pleased to share the bounty with neighbours and friends.
The history of fig trees (Ficus carica) on the west coast may be relatively brief, but they have been cultivated elsewhere since early civilization. Evidence of fig orchards in the Lower Jordan Valley dates back over 11,000 years. The Greeks are believed to have introduced figs to Italy, Spain and Northern Africa, and by Roman times, fig cultivation was established throughout the Mediterranean. The fruit then sailed its way to the Americas with Spanish explorers, and by the 1500s, fig groves were flourishing in the new world.
Figs feature large in mythology and appear in pivotal moments through history. Adam and Eve used fig leaves to preserve their modesty, and there is some suggestion that the forbidden fruit was not an apple, but a fig. Buddha is said to have become a God under the sacred fig, Ficus religiosa. According to Greek myth, the fig tree first grew on the spot where Zeus tossed a thunderbolt to earth.
In botanical terms, the fig is not a fruit; it is a synconium: an inverted pouch that protects its flowers within. The flowers mature into drupelets, tiny fruits similar to those that cluster together to form a raspberry. Pollinating insects gain access to the flowers by way of a small opening at the base of the fig; however varieties that grow locally produce fruit without pollination.
Weather permitting, the fig tree bears two crops a year, but cool fall temperatures in the Lower Mainland often prevent maturation of the second crop. We can still enjoy the first, however. Called the breba crop, it forms on the previous year’s growth and matures in July.
According to Sandy Howkins of Specimen Trees, a wholesale nursery in Pitt Meadows, demand for figs has always come from ethnic communities seeking to cultivate the trees they grew up with. He estimates that Specimen Trees sells between 50 and 200 trees a year. The roots of some Vancouver trees, however, can be traced back to Europe, as fig cuttings from their countries of origin accompanied many immigrants who settled in the Lower Mainland.
Of the over 700 fig varieties, several are best suited to our climate:
- Brown Turkey: greenish-brown with a purplish tinge
- Desert King: large, green with faint while speckles
- Mission: small, dark brownish-purple
- Peter’s Honey: light greenish-yellow
Specimen Trees carries its own variety, which bears large green fruit. Called Frank’s Fig, it was named after long-time employee and fig enthusiast Frank Porretti. Mr. Porretti, originally from Italy, encouraged the nursery to carry fig trees, and according to Sandy Howkins, the Frank’s Fig is a direct descendent of those Mr. Porretti grows in his own back yard.
Whichever one you choose, growing a tree in a backyard or balcony garden is a great way to ensure your own inexpensive and ready supply of fresh figs. The trees range between 3 and 6m high, their lush green leaves providing shade and greenery in summer months. They like a sunny south-facing wall, plenty of water, and well-drained soil. Even if the plant dies back in winter, it will likely come back “with a vengeance,” says Sandy Howkins.
It’s important to avoid planting the tree too close to plumbing systems, as the moisture-seeking roots may find their way into drainage tiles. A good way to curtail ravenous root growth is to plant the tree in a container, which makes growing one feasible for condo- and apartment-dwellers. Sandy Howkins estimates that a container-grown tree will yield approximately 10kg of figs per season. While fig trees planted in the ground require very little fertilizing, container-grown figs benefit from an occasional feeding of seaweed and potash.
Harvesting a fig at exactly the right moment is the key to enjoying all the sweetness it has to offer. It won’t continue to ripen once it’s picked, so it should be left on the tree until it becomes very soft. A drop of sugary liquid may seep out of the small opening at the bottom of the fig, or it may even split revealing its gooey inside. Birds have an uncanny skill for knowing when figs are just right and swooping down to eat them. For this reason gardeners sling nets over their trees to allow their figs to ripen unimpeded by treat-seeking birds.
While fresh figs straight up are spectacular, there are other ways to feast. They partner well with cheeses, nuts and sliced meats–traditionally prosciutto. They add sweetness to summer salads and a surprising lusciousness to sandwiches. Drizzled with chocolate sauce or anisette, they make a simple, seasonal dessert.
To broil figs, slice them in half and place cut side up on a rimmed cookie sheet or broiler pan. Sprinkle with sugar or honey, and broil for five to ten minutes. Top with crème fraiche or mascarpone. Allow at least two figs per guest.
Whether it’s the solitary enjoyment of a freshly picked fig or a platter of figs shared among friends, the fruit seems to generate happy memories. For Caren Durante and Sam Grandinetti, it evokes people and places from the past. For others, figs are simply a much anticipated summertime treat. Whatever meaning we attach to the fig, those of us on the west coast can nurture our own happy associations by growing a tree of our own.
Josie Padro is a Vancouver writer who recently discovered the wonder of fresh figs and has since acquired a lanky fig tree of her own.
