The Promised Day is Come

Waiting for the figs to ripen on the tree in my yard was more difficult than I supposed.

It was less like anticipating the presents under the tree on Christmas morning and more like if each present started as a pea-sized knot on the carpet and grew incrementally over the course of two months while an impatient child hissed "But WHEN WILL IT BE AN X-BOX 360?!?"

So this week I saw figs at $2 per basket, reduced from $3 because they were a bit mashed up, and I bought them, despite the fact that $0 per bushel figs will drop softly from the waxy-leafed tree in a few weeks. Mommy, I want them now.

Sean Timberlake's recipe from last year was a huge hit, so I made it again. Early season figs were a bit less sweet and more liquid, so I used the full cup of sugar and a bit less than 2 c of water.

And now in my cupboard I have three half pints of fig jam set by, which fills me with an enormous sense of well being.