Friday, September 01, 2006
Figs
Last week during my relaxing stay at the Upstate House, Steve C.,brought a bag of just-perfect-ripe figs to do something wonderful with for our eatng pleasure, as he so often does....not only is he a thoughtful, generous and nurturing man who loves to cook meals that we all enjoy but he is also adventurous, inventive and daring willing to try new recipes with whatever fresh things he finds at various market places....So, there were these scrumptious figs (scrumptious is one word that sounds how it actually tastes and feels to eat something that is scrumptious)...what to do? So:
As he so often does, Steve C. went online, probably typed int he words "figs" and "dessert" amnd came up with something totally yummmy: a fig and orange-water cream tart! We shopped for the orange water ,settled for orange oil from Williams - Sonoma, and proceeded to make the crust from scratch, the custard cream from scratch,etc and placed the by now on-the-edge-of-over-ripe figs just so and baked what turned out to be a glorious thing....figs are a revalation to me...i am just discovering figs, really....they are amazing...so i saw this poem in an August NEW YORKER and it says what i would love to be able to say about figs...it's called
THE FIG TREE
and it is written by the poet Ruth Stone.....
Old as the world,
lithe and smooth,
her skin as cool as a python's,
she offers fat tongues of syrup
embedded with her seeds.
Through lobed waxed leaves,
she gathers light for the tiny ones,
the sheen of stoma,
the enzymic chlorophyll,
drawing up with her powerful veins
exact minerals for each cell.
How calm, like a lover waiting in a garden,
her pale trunk curving, sinuous,
dripping her raw smell in the carnal air.
She sways while a thousand beating wings
deflower her.
And of course the poet imagines the fig as female...what else could it be...?
That is one sexy poem. And the fig is one sexy ,sensual fruit....also, very beautiful. And it looks so,,,well....dirty and raw from the outside...again I think of the MOTHER COURAGE I just saw...it's on my mind a lot since I saw it two nights ago. Most theater i see never revisits me like that. I am so grateful for its company. Wendy W. and i had a long conversation about it over a fun Mexican dinner last night...so good to catchup with her, that busy ,gifted woman...her Juilliard students are so lucky to have her as a teacher. I simply worry that she drives herself to exhaustion, but she seems to know that taking care of herself is key, and she looks terrific, rested and beautiful...I was glad to see it last night. I like her so much, I hope we can see more of each other throughout this school year. We both tend to get far too nusy to find each other and chat over the tea we are always promising we will have! Last night was fun.
A word to Edie: please write me...don't be too timid to comment in any way you want to when you read this blog...I look forward to hearing from you. So, WRITE, girl!!!
As he so often does, Steve C. went online, probably typed int he words "figs" and "dessert" amnd came up with something totally yummmy: a fig and orange-water cream tart! We shopped for the orange water ,settled for orange oil from Williams - Sonoma, and proceeded to make the crust from scratch, the custard cream from scratch,etc and placed the by now on-the-edge-of-over-ripe figs just so and baked what turned out to be a glorious thing....figs are a revalation to me...i am just discovering figs, really....they are amazing...so i saw this poem in an August NEW YORKER and it says what i would love to be able to say about figs...it's called
THE FIG TREE
and it is written by the poet Ruth Stone.....
Old as the world,
lithe and smooth,
her skin as cool as a python's,
she offers fat tongues of syrup
embedded with her seeds.
Through lobed waxed leaves,
she gathers light for the tiny ones,
the sheen of stoma,
the enzymic chlorophyll,
drawing up with her powerful veins
exact minerals for each cell.
How calm, like a lover waiting in a garden,
her pale trunk curving, sinuous,
dripping her raw smell in the carnal air.
She sways while a thousand beating wings
deflower her.
And of course the poet imagines the fig as female...what else could it be...?
That is one sexy poem. And the fig is one sexy ,sensual fruit....also, very beautiful. And it looks so,,,well....dirty and raw from the outside...again I think of the MOTHER COURAGE I just saw...it's on my mind a lot since I saw it two nights ago. Most theater i see never revisits me like that. I am so grateful for its company. Wendy W. and i had a long conversation about it over a fun Mexican dinner last night...so good to catchup with her, that busy ,gifted woman...her Juilliard students are so lucky to have her as a teacher. I simply worry that she drives herself to exhaustion, but she seems to know that taking care of herself is key, and she looks terrific, rested and beautiful...I was glad to see it last night. I like her so much, I hope we can see more of each other throughout this school year. We both tend to get far too nusy to find each other and chat over the tea we are always promising we will have! Last night was fun.
A word to Edie: please write me...don't be too timid to comment in any way you want to when you read this blog...I look forward to hearing from you. So, WRITE, girl!!!
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