Figs

Before moving to South Carolina I'd never had a fresh fig. And even then it took me a while to work up to eating one. They're soft, much softer than any other fruit, almost unappetizingly so. And they don't keep, so you can't pick one and think about it for a day or two while it sits on your counter. You have to eat the fig right away...either that, or make fig preserves.

I finally ate a fig, and then a few more, and three years ago I bought Lawson a fig tree which is just this year beginning to produce figs in earnest (not in jest). The birds eat slightly over half the figs -- there are deep beak holes and bird poop -- but that leaves us about one a day. They are huge Mission-style figs. I cut them in half, and we each get plenty.
Lawson's parents have a tree that bears the smaller, more traditional greenish-brown figs. Earlier this year we picked many pounds' worth and made fig preserves. They're okay. I'm not convinced figs have the right flavor for preserves: raw, they're delicately perfumey, but boiled they're mostly just sweet. I'll try again, though. Lawson thinks maybe my version had too much lemon, and he may be right.

For the first time ever I've been seeing fresh figs in the supermarket this year. I haven't tried them...have you (Mom) or you (readers)? (There's some proof that English could use a second-person singular-plural distinction.)