Baked Figs
Place fresh figs in a small crock or earthenware dish, with a little sugar and lemon juice or that of other fruit. Cover and bake slowly and no water will be required.
A three-line recipe that relies entirely on the fruit's own juice, so the vessel and the oven temperature are doing most of the work.
- The hinge: keep it coveredThe figs release enough liquid to stew themselves, but only if nothing escapes. A tight lid or a sheet of foil crimped over the dish is what makes "no water will be required" true; uncovered, the sugar scorches before the fruit softens.
- "Bake slowly"The original gives no temperature. A slow oven, somewhere around 300F, suits the instruction; higher heat makes fresh figs collapse and weep and drives the syrup to caramel in the corners of the dish.
- TimingNot given in the original. Expect 25-40 minutes depending on ripeness — the figs should be slumped and glossy but still holding their shape, not disintegrating.
- The crockThe original calls for a small crock or earthenware dish, and separately says to cover it. A small ceramic baker, a lidded cocotte or a pie dish under foil all work; avoid a wide shallow pan, which spreads the little juice there is too thin.
- Sugar and acidThe original says only "a little sugar" and "lemon juice or that of other fruit", with no quantities. A teaspoon or so of sugar per fig and the juice of half a lemon for a pound of fruit is a reasonable reading. Ripe figs are already very sweet, so taste one first.
- "That of other fruit"The original leaves the choice open. Orange, tangerine or the juice of tart plums or grapes all fit. Orange juice alone is less acidic than lemon, so add a squeeze of lemon with it.
- PreparationTrim the hard stem tips and leave the figs whole and unpeeled; halving them lets the interior pulp leak out and thins the syrup.
- Yield and servingA pound of figs, about 8 to 10, serves four. Serve warm or cold with cream, plain yogurt or a spoonful of the syrup from the dish.
Fresh figs were an awkward commodity in the era of books like this one: highly perishable, bruising in transit, and in much of the country known mostly in dried form. A recipe that begins "place fresh figs" is quietly addressed to people with a tree in the yard or a nearby market, and it treats the fruit accordingly — sugar and a little acid, nothing more. Slow baking in a covered crock is a long-standing way of handling any soft fruit: the same method appears for pears, quinces and apples in nineteenth-century cookery, where a lidded earthenware pot could be left in the cooling brick oven or at the back of the range for as long as it took. The whole point is that the fruit stews in what it already contains, which is also why the instruction ends by telling you not to add water.