Peak Pick – Figs and Grapes

Black Mission Figs

Figs have a special place in my heart because of my great Aunt Bell. Her yard, behind her house about two miles from downtown Jackson, Mississippi, was my late summer childhood playground and in it were three gigantic fig trees. Years of aluminum pie pans hung from the branches of these trees – the first and only line of defense against a steady stream of crows. Eating warm figs right from the trees and watching my great aunt make fig preserves were two great childhood memories – listening to the “tis, tis, tis” of the pressure cooker as the fragrance of cooking figs filled the kitchen.

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