We are in the middle of fig season. For a good portion of my life, I was unaware of fresh figs...and their season. I first experienced truly delicious fresh figs while working in Provence in the late 90s. The property where I lived and worked had three massive fig trees. I was there in September...right in the middle of the main fig season (there is a smaller season in early summer). We harvested ripe figs daily and set them on the breakfast buffet for our guests—and I was allowed to eat as many as I wanted. (We used the excess abundance to make jam...as well as crostatas, fig and almond tarts and clafoutis.) Like so many fresh fruits, there is nothing quite like tasting a fig at its peak...right off the tree. I was captivated.
There was a reason that I was so unaware of fresh figs: Well into my adulthood, fresh figs were pretty rare where I lived in the Midwest. You might have occasionally seen them in the grocery store...but they would have been pretty inferior. Certainly they were inferior enough to make me wonder what all the fuss in food magazines and Mediterranean cookbooks was about. But after having tasted the real deal in France, I understood. When I returned home, I began seeking them out at specialty stores...and eventually found them at my local farmers market from a grower who happened to have a fig tree growing in his greenhouse.
Happily, at some point during the last twenty five years, figs have become widely available in the states. Nowadays, the ones that fill the stores (even regular grocery stores) during fig season are soft, plump, and sweet. I can’t get enough of them.
Shortly after my return from France, I purchased the start of a fig tree from that grower at my farmers market. Most fig trees are not naturally at home in regions with cold winters (anyplace that routinely dips much below 25 degrees), so my little tree has required some babying in the form of burial under a mountain of leaves every winter. The fruit itself takes a surprisingly long time to mature. So even where summers are long, if you don’t have tiny incipient figs by late June/early July, you probably won’t get to eat any figs off of your tree that year. I’m happy to report that I occasionally do get a few figs from my tree.
These days, since I can get good figs at the store, I prize my tree mostly for its exotic looking presence in my landscape...and for its leaves! I remember when I worked in Provence that we always harvested a few leaves when we picked figs for breakfast and then used them to line the platters (fig leaves are beautiful). And we occasionally used figs leaves as a wrapping for fish that was to be grilled or roasted. When used in this way, the leaves trap the steam—keeping the fish moist and imparting a subtle coconut aroma to the flesh of the fish as it cooks.
Fig leaf ice cream...topped with a fig from my tree(!)...
A few years ago I began noticing more recipes that use fig leaves in other ways. Last year I made fig leaf ice cream (similar to the one David Lebovitz shares on his blog). The delicate, slightly coconut-y flavor of the ice cream is subtle, exotic and delicious. I thought of that ice cream this year when I was thinking about ideas for a late summer/early autumn panna cotta.
I imagine everyone is familiar with panna cotta at this point, but if you are not, it is a cool and creamy, dairy-based dessert from Italy. Panna cotta means cooked cream...and the cream it is made with is indeed heated—but I think this is mostly for infusion purposes (vanilla bean, spices, citrus zests...and in the current case: fig leaves). Heating the cream also allows you to dissolve the gelatin, which is the means by which panna cotta is set. You will often find panna cotta served turned out of its mold and onto a plate for a lovely molded dessert. But I prefer a softer set (less gelatin), so I always serve it in glasses or ramekins.
Before infusing the cream with the fig leaves, they need to be dried. Some people do this in a low oven—allowing the leaves to dry and curl gradually. But it is just as easy...and much quicker...to dry the leaves in a wide skillet. Rinse the leaves to remove any dust and blot them dry. Then, place a cast iron (or other heavy) skillet over medium high heat. Add the leaves to the pan (you will probably need to work in batches) and turn them over occasionally until they are curled, have shrunk a bit, and are beginning to crisp—about 1 1/2 to 2 minutes.
I used a fairly basic, traditional recipe as the starting point for the fig leaf panna cotta. I substituted milk for some of the cream so that the panna cotta wouldn’t be too rich. And while every panna cotta I have made over the years has been sweetened with sugar, I chose to substitute honey for some of the sugar in this one since honey and figs are such natural partners.
I like to serve the fig leaf panna cotta topped with a few halved or quartered figs that have been tossed with a little honey simple syrup and allowed to sit for a half hour or so (to encourage the figs to give up some of their juices). But it would be equally delicious topped with a few raspberries...or some sugared strawberries. It is also good served plain. Shortbread or sugar cookies are a fine accompaniment.
If you don’t happen to have a fig tree in your back yard, don’t worry—you can still find a way to make this delicious dessert. It is highly likely there will be a grower at your farmers market who has a tree and who will be happy to bring a few leaves to the market for you.
Fig Leaf & Honey Panna Cotta
6 large fresh fig leaves (about 1 oz.)
2 1/2 c. heavy cream
6 T. sugar
1/4 c. honey
1 1/2 c. cold whole milk, divided
1 envelope powdered gelatin (2 1/2 t. or 1/4 ounce)
1 t. vanilla
In a cast iron skillet, warm the fig leaves, turning a
few times while warming until they are slightly dried out and fragrant…about 1
1/2 minutes. You will probably need to do 2 at time.
Place the cream in a medium-sized, non-reactive saucepan. Add the fig leaves and push down to submerge. It’s ok if they break up. Bring to just under a simmer (Don’t boil). Remove from the heat, cover, and let steep for two hours or so.
When ready to finish the panna cotta, place a quarter cup of the milk in a small sauce pan and sprinkle the gelatin over. Let the gelatin bloom/soften for a few minutes. Place the remaining 1 1/4 cup of milk and vanilla in a bowl large enough to hold all the milk and cream.
While the gelatin blooms, use a pair of tongs to fish the fig leaves out of the cream. Place the leaves in a fine meshed strainer set over the pan of cream (hold the strainer in one hand while you use the tongs to grab the leaves with the other hand). Set the tongs aside and use your clean hands to squeeze as much of the cream out of the leaves as possible and back into the pan of cream (letting it pass through the strainer to catch all the bits of the leaves). The leaves will have rehydrated a bit and become leathery...so this is a pretty easy process. Discard the figs leaves. Set the strainer aside.
Add the sugar and honey to the infused cream and return the pan to the heat. Gently warm while stirring with a heat proof spatula until the sugar has dissolved and the mixture is steaming. Set aside.
Place the small saucepan of milk and bloomed gelatin over low heat and warm, stirring constantly with a rubber spatula, until the gelatin has completely melted. Off the heat add the sweetened, infused cream and stir until the two mixtures are fully combined. Set the sieve over the bowl of chilled cream and pour the hot, infused dairy mix through the sieve. Stir until well combined. Transfer the mixture to a vessel from which you can easily pour without sloshing or dripping. Divide the mixture among eight ramekins, wine glasses, parfaits or other clear dessert dishes. Each portion is about a half cup...so choose containers that will hold 2/3 to 3/4 cup of liquid.
Place the panna cottas on a sheet pan and transfer to the refrigerator. The panna cotta will be lightly set in about four hours...they will be fully set after 12 hours. I think the flavor is better/fuller if they are allowed to set overnight.
Serve cold, topped with wedges of fresh figs tossed in a honey simple syrup (2 parts honey to 1 part warm water), fresh raspberries, or lightly sugared sliced strawberries—or enjoy plain. Makes 8 (4-oz) servings.
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