Fig

Honey is a fine example of the French concept of terroir—quite literally, a little bit of the earth of the surrounding area is imparted to every jar of honey. Dede loved honey and enjoyed it on his toast or biscuits. When I grew older and started to travel, I would always bring home a jar of the local honey as a gift for him. Although he has long since passed away, I have continued the tradition and always bring home a jar of local honey as a memento when I travel. The shelf in my cupboard resembles an amber rainbow. I once had a bit of pecan-crusted goat cheese left over from another recipe and served it the next day, nestled in a quartered fresh fig and drizzled with honey—that’s how this recipe was born.

Surprisingly, a lot of people have never seen a fresh fig. When they do, they invariably ask, “What is that?” Indeed, a majority of the fig harvest gets dried and made into the familiar bar cookies. But fresh figs have a sweet succulence that is unmatched by their dried counterparts. A fig is ripe when the sides crack and split and a dewy drop of juice starts to ooze from the tiny hole in the bottom. Once picked, figs don’t ripen any more, so buy only figs that are dead-ripe. For best results, use Black Mission figs, which will give the ice cream a lovely deep-violet color.

Figs have two seasons—the first figs appear in late summer and the second batch shows up around mid-autumn. If you miss the first one, not to worry—the second is usually more prolific and the figs are even tastier. Don’t be put off by fresh figs with skins that are split and syrupy; those are the ones that taste the best. For jam making, I like black Mission figs, which are the most common variety, but this recipe will work with others as well. Figs are high in natural sugar, which means that the jam cooks relatively quickly.

Somewhere along the way, mint sherbet got a bad rap. Perhaps too many catered wedding receptions began with a pallid artificially green scoop melting away in the middle of a melon half, the sherbet chosen because it matched the bridesmaids’ dresses rather than for its taste. Thankfully, any color you’ll find in this mint sherbet comes naturally from a big handful of fragrant, zesty fresh mint. Unlike ice cream, sherbet is usually made with milk, and no cream or eggs, so I never feel guilty about indulging in a couple of scoops. Nor do I feel deprived if I’m craving something a tad creamy. Light yet creamy—it’s a recipe for a perfect marriage.

The surprising zip of fruit chutney counters the richness of mousse au chocolat and adds a whole other dimension to this unconventional dessert. I don’t know if it’s a combination the French would approve of, but when I made it as a pastry chef on a cruise line, a few thousand people gave their consent. Each plate that came back to the kitchen was scraped clean. Unlike traditional chocolate mousse that uses uncooked eggs, this one has a cooked custard base. So, there’s no reason for anyone with concerns about consuming raw eggs to jump ship rather than dive into this dessert full-steam ahead.

The first time I saw a fresh fig was nearly three decades ago when I was living in upstate New York. I had no idea what it was. Then I moved to California and saw them everywhere. I can’t say for sure that fresh figs were the reason I stayed put there for so long, but they certainly were one of them.

Here you have the Queen of Tarts: fresh figs and apricot jam are a wonderful counterpart to the sweet and tangy taste of the seasonal berries and kiwi.

Speckled with vanilla beans and dried figs, these light and delicate cupcakes make a sophisticated end to a lovely meal, or a satisfying accompaniment to afternoon tea. Try these plain or with Vegan Buttercream (page 95).

People think fresh figs are elegant—and this preparation definitely is. To be honest, figs are not my favorite fruit, but when I make them this way I really love ’em. They are a quick and easy (Q&E) piccolino. Cut ’em, stuff ’em, and roast ’em until everything melts and gets all toasty—it’s SOOOOO easy!

This sweet fig and aniseed pudding is like a clafoutis. The custard bakes to a flan-like consistency and is heavenly served still slightly warm from the oven.

My kids, Ella, Lulu, and Harry, love making pizza at home and getting their hands in the dough. You don’t need a special oven to make great pizza at home, although I recommend purchasing a pizza stone from your local kitchen store to ensure a crispy and crunchy crust. While you are at it, pick up a pizza paddle too. They often are sold as a set and run only around $30, so they’re not a major investment. The pizza dough in Basics is extremely versatile and can be topped with basically anything you can come up with. Here I wanted to come up with a vegetarian pizza that was so packed with interesting flavors, no one would miss the meat. Radicchio and arugula provide a slightly bitter balance to the melted and wondrous cheeses.

I love sangria in the summertime and always thought about turning it into a slushy. Here, I’ve taken it one step further and made granité. The acid from the raspberries both brightens and enhances the flavors of the wines.

Ripe figs are delicious right off the tree, but in this recipe, I’m applying a touch of heat just to make them that much more tender.

This dish is perfect for entertaining a large group because it serves a crowd and looks spectacular, and the rich, velvety fig sauce will knock your guests’ socks off; it’s so sweet you could even serve it over ice cream. Many European cultures have traditional recipes that pair pork with sweet fruit, usually apples. But apples aren’t so prevalent in Italy, and figs are. Lucky for Italians.

Honestly, there’s not much that’s better than fried mozzarella with something sweet drizzled on top. In Santorini I tasted a dish like this, but made with feta; here I’ve substituted smoked mozzarella, which has a similar salty flavor but is a bit creamier. The smokiness plays off the sweetness of the figs beautifully.

Here’s why I love this dish: it looks gorgeous on the plate, and it’s much more sophisticated than the simplicity of the ingredients would suggest. It’s a two-biter with lots of strong layers of flavor: first the bite of the cheese, then the crisp lemony tang of the apple and the sweet jammy aftertaste of the figs. Together, the combination is amazing. Use the fig jam on anything from pancakes to pork chops.

Montalcino, Italy, is the city I married in. I will make this dish for John every September 24, for our wedding anniversary. The way to anyone’s heart, forever and ever, is through their stomach! This is not your average chicken dinner.