Figs and a farm stand

There's a small farmer's stand on my way home form work that is open through the beginning of winter.  It's an undersized building with an overflow of produce heaped in containers outside under a small covered area. Just last month it was brimming with tomatoes - but those have now been replaced with apples, squash, and pumpkins.  This time of the day, the inside of the building is dark, with the majority of light provided by a few windows which face east and the smell of soil, potatoes, and onions fills the air.  It's not the belle of the ball when it comes to farmer's stands, but there is a certain feeling of nostalgia and surprise that always awaits every time I walk through the door.  

Today is a good day, because I see figs.  Figs are one of those things that are only around when they are in season.  They are finicky - they don't travel well and they don't keep well.  There is a certain something about craving something that is not accessible all the time.  Timing is everything with figs.  Naturally, I could go out and buy a fig tree, care for it, and have figs of my own, but I don't want to do that - not yet.  The addiction to the feeling of ::GASP!:: "FIGS!" at a market is too great, and to me, that is the difference between liking something and loving something.  That same feeling that brings elation also brings a deep fear - not because I don't know what I am doing, but because I am afraid of screwing up.  As if I somehow will not live up to the fig's expectation of what I am going to do with it.  Slightly unreasonable, but everyone has those feelings at one point or another. 

So until my feelings go away, the only promise I can give it is a swirl of deeply luscious buckwheat honey, a tangy drop of goat cheese, and the scorching heat of a broiler.  I hope that does it justice.   

Fig Bruschetta

Figs

Rye toast

Herb goat cheese
Buckwheat Honey
Preheat oven on broil (high setting).  Slice figs, spread goat cheese on bread, drizzle with honey and broil on high inches away from heat source until caramelized.

Earl's Farm and Produce

3958 S Milford Rd
Milford, MI 48381

(248) 685-0058