Bradshaw
The Crowley Signal was part of what it called a “coastal country chorus” urging peo- ple to plant fig trees in south Louisiana in the spring of 1909, and the editor could not help but wonder why he had to bring up the subject in the first place.
The article suggested that it was possible that some people did not like figs, but just barely possible. No one at the Signal could imagine a person who could resist the temptation of a good ripe Chenier fig.
The trees were so easily maintained and the figs so delicious the Sig nal could only conclude that sheer laziness was the only reason that every yard didn’t sport a tree.
“There are people who want such things brought to them on a platter,” the newspaper suggested. “These people are the same as those who prefer Arkansas turnips to those grown at home, because here at home Nature was not provident enough to wash them and put them in packages.”
The editor acknowledged that people could disagree about which crops to grow for profit, but when “people with land and room enough [for] putting out a few fig trees for their own use refuse or neglect to do so, that is incomprehensible.”
The Chenier fig rec ommended in 1909 has been largely replaced by other varieties now, but I, like the Signal, am a wee bit astonished that people can claim to live full and happy lives without growing and preserving figs. I’ve never lived in a place without at least one fig tree - when I was growing up there were nine in our and my grandparents’ adjoining yards - and I keep a reminder on my desk calendar that early June is the time to check the supply of jars, lids, and rings in preparation for preserving when the figs ripen about the first of July.
Bradshaw
Advice offered today by the LSU AgCenter sounds almost exactly like the Signal’s century-old suggestion: “Growing figs in Louisiana is a rewarding endeavor, offering an annual harvest of nutritious and versatile fruit. With their ease of cultivation, figs thrive in the region’s hot, sunny climate, requiring minimal care beyond consistent watering and occasional pruning. Whether enjoyed fresh, preserved, or in recipes, figs add value to any home garden. With a variety of disease-resistant and productive cultivars available, Louisiana gardeners can look forward to bountiful fig harvests for years to come.”
Even the laziest among us should not miss the phrases “ease of cultivation,” “minimal care,” and “bountiful harvests.”
I use a recipe handed down from my grandmother to preserve figs so they will be available all year long. It’s pretty simple. To make eight pints of preserved figs you will need four quarts of fresh figs, a tablespoon of baking soda, three quarts of boiling water, eight cups of sugar (four pounds), and another quart of water. uPt the figs in a big bowl, sprinkle them with the baking soda, soak them in the hot water for an hour, then thoroughly rinse them in cold water. Combine the sugar and a quart of water in a big pot, bring this to a boil and let it simmer for ten minutes. Add the figs to the syrup and cook them about an hour, stirring about every fifteen minutes. When the figs are tender and clear, spoon them into hot, sterilized jars. Make sure the lids are tight, and process the jars in boiling water for five minutes.
Don’t discard the leftover syrup. It tastes great on all sorts of things.
You will notice there is no lemon in this recipe. Adding lemon, in my grandmother’s eyes, was not only a culinary faux pas but something of a moral failing. “She’s a nice woman,” she’d say sadly of a neighbor, “but I just can’t understand why she puts lemon peel in her preserves.” You could infer from her tone and sadness that someone who committed such folly probably took an occasional nip from the cooking sherry. One must treat these people kindly, of course, but must also worry over what will become of them.
I guess we should give the same deference to people who “refuse putting out a few fig trees,” but the Signal’s word choice makes me wonder. It’s one thing to simply neglect to do something. That’s laziness. But absolutely refusing to do something is more active, more deliberate. Good-fornaughts who are so adamant probably won’t even wash and return the jar if you give them some of your figs. (Note the singular, one jar, given as an attempt to cause them to repent and plant.)
If you have a tree, I applaud you. But if you don’t have one and want to beg some of my preserves, be prepared with notarized documents swearing you’ve never eaten Arkansas turnips.
You can contact Jim Bradshaw at [email protected] or P.O. Box 1121, Washington LA 70589.
