Wednesday, September 9, 2015

figs for dinner


Stephen has been yapping about figs for weeks.
As much as we love where we live, sometimes there are limitations regarding certain foods being readily accessible.  Over the last week, he has been calling stores to see if they have fresh figs. Eight stores to be precise. Responses included:
“No, but we have Fig Newtons.”
“No, but we have dates.”
“No, but we have smoothies. “
Smoothies?!?!  WHAT?!
He called our local grocery store 2 days later to see if any figs had arrived.  The man hung up on him.
Apparently, figs are hard to come by in Ohio.
But as luck should have it, the ninth store was a success, and Stephen only had to leave work 2 hours early to beat traffic and plow over all the other crazy fig lovers who had traveled from far and wide. In true Stephen fashion, he thought it necessary to buy 3 ½ pounds of figs.  He’s notorious for overestimating the amount of food we’ll eat, often leaving us with an absurd amount of leftovers; but in his defense, he ate at least one pound of figs on the drive home.
We then proceeded to feed the darlings mac-and-cheese and shuffle them to bed by 7, so we could feast. 
The Menu:
Crostini with goat cheese, prosciutto, grilled figs, and topped with a drizzle of honey.  And because we’re just wild like that – champagne. 
What?  Bubbly on a weeknight? Oh yes.
You won’t be surprised to know that Stephen doesn’t really let me near the figs, particularly if they are going on the grill.  But he was kind enough to let me watch, and here is what I learned. 


Trim the stems off the figs.  The rest is edible, skin and all.  Cut them in half, brush with olive oil and grill flesh side down for about 3 minutes – but watch carefully.
We layered each crostini with goat cheese and a small slice of prosciutto. After the figs cooled, we cut each piece in half again and added the quarter fig on top.  A drizzle of honey and black pepper completed these little beauties.
I am a devout goat cheese lover, so to me, it was the obvious choice.  Stephen remains loyal to bleu cheese (although he’s never met a cheese he didn’t like).  When he came in from grilling and saw I had smothered goat cheese on every crostini, he was a bit disappointed and decided to make his own – apparently a double.


Both options were delicious. 


His persistence paid off. 


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