Archive of Past News of the Farm:
Fig Flowers July 5, 2010 |
(Above,
my "Shepard's Crook," aka a shower-head pipe, aids in bringing
flexible
fig-laden branches down to my gloved hand.)
Greetings Friends of the Farm,
The “inner Eve” in most of
us ladies is poised to kick into overdrive. Not that we all will be
attired in the latest fig leaf designs, but that we will (almost) lust
for the “forbidden fruit.”
From circumstantial evidence gathered on market days at the farm stand, after strawberries, the fig is the most desired fruit amongst women. Throughout the year, women ask, “Is that a fig tree?” In reaction to the affirmative answer, they then ask, almost trembling, “When will we have figs?” Their Adams, sensing a potential money drain, then ask if we sell fig cuttings.
Ficus carica, the common fig, is an “old world” tree, being cultivated in the Middle East for thousands of years, and bearing one of the sweetest “fruits” known, after the honey-sweet date, of course. There are many species in the Ficus genus, but of a reported 800, F.carica is the one that we grow. (Well, we can’t grow them all!)
In the Bible (Genesis 3:7), the first humans were evicted from the Garden of Eden because Eve, the first forager, deigned to listen to the seemingly good advice of a snake and eat a fruit that was designated “forbidden.” Now, the modern Bible tells us that the fruit was the apple, and maybe so, but the fig must have been growing in the Garden, which apparently was located in the Middle East and not in Washington State, where apples currently grow. But, I was not there, or if I was, perhaps I was the snake, a female snake, of course.
This is one of those times when I wish Little Dove, my mom, was in my garden. She would have researched this thoroughly, with great relief, as finally her daughter is interested in the Bible! In my formative years, I read the Bible cover to cover, but she read it once again, when she was 90 years old, so it would have been fresh in her mind.
Alas, Little Dove is now in the Celestial Garden, and so I must rely on “Wikipedia.org,” which unfortunately offers me no hugs, and entirely too much information.
Back to the Bible. In punishment, God ejected the humans from the idyllic, but confusing Garden (and its street corner “pusher,” the snake. ) Upon discovering that in the world outside the Garden, they would have to be “dressed,” Adam and Eve arranged fig leaves over their newly-diagnosed, ahem, private parts. I’m not talking about the famous “rib” here....
Oh how those parts must have itched. Better to have chosen other traveling attire. Like apple leaves! For the fig and its leaves contain irritating skin allergens, but I reckon that was part of the punitive damages assessed.
And here we are, my intern Bess and I, descendants of Eve, out in the sweet morning air -- air filled with humidity to the point of liquidity -- picking the flowers of the fig trees. For the so called fruit of the fig tree is in actuality a sweet and juicy flower vase. The flowers are in its interior. When they are pollinated, they produce seeds. A teensy tiny wasp, the “fig wasp,” enters the fig through the little opening at the base of the vase. Once inside she lays her teensy weensy tiny eggs and pollinates the tiny flowers. After pollination, the seeds develop and together with the flowers, they completely fill the interior of the vase. The fig is now a multiple fruit vase.
(Above, those little curly cues are the flowers. The little hole, at the top of the fig, is the entry hole.
I don't see anything but flowers here, do you?)
Most of the figs I savor are consumed in the midst of picking the harvest, and I’ve yet to see this teeny wasp, and if I ate her eggs, I never knew it. At the least, they were mighty tasty!
Besides, like Eve, I’m more concerned with the itching! But Bess and I wore surgical gloves, blue ones, this morning, courtesy of my Adam, Larry, and so, only my exposed wrists suffered. And to make that OK, I ate figs as we harvested -- those which had been sampled by a very large black wasp with red wings, who chisels off one side of the fig, and leaves the other side for us. Finally, an insect partner! We’ll call him our insect “Adam.” Or our insect “Eve.” Who knows. The wasp took the first bite!
(Above, left: Needing more hands, I park just-picked figs between my gloved fingers -- unfortunately, one blue finger is already ripped off....Notice the little holes at the base of the figs.
On the right is the big black wasp's sampled fig. The rest is for me.
Also, how would you go about sewing those fig leaves together?)
We didn’t however, eat so many figs that we were restricted to the house for the next few hours. You have to go easy on figs, as they are very beneficial to digestion, if you know what I mean. You don’t? Well, in quantity, they are a like a sweet juicy dose of “Ex Lax.” A cup of hot tea further enhances their powers. Thus figs are not only important as food, they are also almost medicinal...for certain problems.
Or at least that’s the “warning” Larry extends to the many Eves interested in the figs on market days.... Sympathetic to the Adams, he’s prepared to offer clippers.
(Left: Figs in the baskets. Right: Figs in the farmhouse...)
Carol Ann Back