Figs in a Blanket

June 20, 2004

Since I didn't start my Saturday shift until ten, I didn't get to take my break until one-thirty when most of the farmers at the market were starting to pack up their stuff. I spent some time looking for some Brentwood white corn because, in the course of selling him some Pleasant Ridge Reserve, Panache d'Aramitz, and a bit of Bleu d'Auvergne, a customer had tipped me off that this early corn was "incredibly outstanding." We then had a delightful chat about our mutually favorite way of cooking the corn: roasting the ears in their husks in a very hot oven.

I happen to have gotten my tip from Nero Wolfe.

I didn't see the desired corn anywhere, so I gave up and honed in on the figs. That was another nearly fruitless (sorry!) search since every vendor seemed to have sold out for the day. However, I finally ran my quarry to ground at the stand of a local olive oil producer who was starting to pack up her wares. She sold me a pound of handpicked figs, and I ran back inside to secure a half-pound of Parma prosciutto from the deli and three-quarters pound Gorgonzola Piccante from work.

At home, I split the figs in half -- quartering them left no good place to secure the cheese -- while allowing the Gorgonzola Piccante to come to room temperature. Once the Gorgonzola was properly gooey, I smeared a dab on the halved fig, bundled strips of prosciutto around them, and that was our dinner.

Next time I get my hot hands on these plump biblical teardrops, I'm going to attempt balsamic fig jam.

Later on in the night, as we watched Farscape, we got a little peckish. I knew there were two practically perfect avocados on the kitchen table that were one day away from being less perfect. I scooped their flesh into a bowl and fork-mashed them together with scallions, citrus olive oil, and a dash of champagne vinegar. I folded in some diced vine tomatoes and added a little salt and pepper. Presto!

Impromptu guacamole saves two more avocados from death by rotting.