As often as I should
If I close my eyes, I can conjure up the memory of my father sharing dried figs with my brother and me when we were little.
I cannot see Dad but I know he's there. We are rather young, as the image in my head is of our childhood home and not the house we moved to in later years. The edges of are a bit fuzzy, and the details are not all there. It is a moment tied to nothing specific, really. For all I know, it is not just one moment, but instead the layered culmination of the countless times we snacked on the honey-sweet fruit. But when I think of dried figs, I think of back then.
Those figs were plump hockey pucks, squat with fat, golden cheeks. Slightly flattened on top and bulging at the sides, speared through their centres and strung together like a wreath. You had to pry them apart from their neighbours, each bearing the impression of the next. Their skin was wrinkled and tough, resistant to be bitten, but giving way to the jammy pulp, gritty with seeds in the most delicious way. Sugary sand. They were toothsome, and as far as I was concerned, the only way one ate a fig.
It sounds silly to say, but I do not think of dried figs as often as I should. More often than not I am distracted by the lures of the fresh variety. Fresh figs are foxy little minxes. On the outside, they are mysterious and musky, with soft skin ranging from the palest green to the deepest black. On the inside, they reveal a flesh that can boast a strawberry blush or a claret stain. They are tempestuous, with only a brief window when they're are at their glorious, ripe peak. After that, it is a steep decline into decay, and the utmost despair.
To be frank, fresh figs are sexier; tearing one open feels like an act of abandon.
But dried figs are making a comeback around here. You see, dear reader, I am wholly besotted with figs that (for the sake of clarity) could be called semi-dried. They were labelled dried in the market, but are a whole other personality than those that I remember from years ago. These tawny darlings retain their flat-bottomed teardrop shape, but their taste is more concentrated than fresh; a deeply resiny, sticky sweetness is found beneath the only-slightly leathered skin. Truly figgy, through and through.
When I came across a recipe for Rosemary Raisin Pecan Crisps, my first thought was "yum!" as it is no secret that I am known to snack now and again. My second thought was "FIGS" all uppercase and grand, as I set about the task of integrating my new crush into the cobblestoned crackers. Swapping out walnuts for pecans as that was what was on hand, and thyme for the rosemary, the crisps were easily adapted to my fancy. The method is simple, requiring pretty much one bowl and a double-bake process similar to biscotti.
The result, a golden stack of crisps as beautiful as Moroccan tiles, each a mosaic of nuts, seeds and fruit. Unforgettably good.
Fig and Walnut Crisps
Adapted from Julie, with thanks.
Ingredients
softened butter for greasing pans, or nonstick spray
1/2 cup chopped walnuts
1/4 cup pepitas (green pumpkin seeds)
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup whole wheat flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
2 cups buttermilk
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup honey
1 cup coarsely-chopped dried figs
1/4 cup shelled sunflower seeds
1/4 cup sesame seeds
1/4 cup flax seed, bashed about in a mortar and pestle or pulsed in a spice grinder
2 teaspoons fresh thyme, chopped
Preheat oven to 350° F. Lightly grease two 8-by-4-inch loaf pans, or spray with a nonstick spray.
Spread the walnuts and pumpkin seeds on a baking sheet. Roast in the oven, stirring occasionally, for about 7-10 minutes until fragrant but without much colour. Remove from the baking sheet and into a bowl, then set aside to cool.
In a large bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda and salt. Add the buttermilk, brown sugar and honey and stir until combined. Add the reserved nuts and remaining ingredients and stir until just blended.
Pour the batter into the prepared pans. Bake until golden and puffed, about 45 minutes. When touched, the loaves should spring back immediately. Turn the loaves out of their pans to cool completely, right side up, on a wire rack.
The bread is easiest to slice when fully-cooled. Leave the loaves to rest at room temperate for a few hours or, following Julie's suggestion, once cooled wrap them well in clingfilm and pop them in the freezer. Once frozen, slice the loaves as thin as you can and place the slices in a single layer on an ungreased cookie sheet.
Reduce the oven heat to 300° F and bake them for about 15 minutes, then flip them over and bake for another 10 minutes, until crisp and deep golden. Cool completely on a wire rack, then store in an airtight container.
Makes about 8 dozen crackers.
Notes:
• I used a particularly robust dark honey, which caused the loaves to brown a bit quicker than expected. This was not a problem, but something to keep in mind. In the future, I think I will use a lighter honey, not only for the browning but also for a more subtle taste.
• Next time I make these (and there will most definitely be a next time), I am planning on using miniature loaf pans for a two-bite size.
Reader Comments (23)
Lovely post! The crisps look wonderful. And, I'm with you... I don't think of dried figs nearly as often as I should.
Awesome read, I adore figs and we have plenty of freshly fallen walnuts to open and these crisps sure look like a cracking excuse.
such a loely post and the combinations of ingredients have me swooning!
you've convinced me to go out and grab some figs.
These sound wonderful! A beautiful picture, as well.
oooooh i love your cutterboard
The post and the recipe are both irresistible. There's something so alluring about figs. I'm confident there will be Fig & Walnut Crisps in my kitchen soon!
Your little story made me smile. Reminded me when my dad used to hand me and my sister a banana each from one of our trees we had in our back yard. Lovely memories. :)
Your writing is lovely---graced with vivid care and imagery. Thanks for calling to mind an ingredient I often neglect, but have fond memories about as well.
These look and sound amazing. The ingredient list itself is pure poetry. Love your fig description and memory.
Mmmmm... My grandparents had fig trees growing up, so it is the fresh ones that conjure memoriesg for me. Heading out into the orchard, getting the dry California dirt in my shoes, then returning to the kitchen to cut up the figs, sprinkle them with sugar, and eat them with half and half. Thanks for reminding me... I don't get fresh figs very often!
Those look amazing. I love what you've put in them too. I didn't grow up eating figs (though I love them now), but I have similar fond childhood memories of other fruit.
I have seen this around the blogosphere. I think this means i HAVE to make it.
Those look so crisp and rustic! What a lovely story you weave :-)
I love crispy food, and the one that you featured looks terrific...dried fig and sunflower seed...cannot go wrong.
i knew i had to make these the minute i saw them -- i already had all the ingredients in my cupboard waiting for me.
i made them today, following your recipe to the T.
i'm not sure what could have gone wrong, but mine did not turn out well. i baked the loaves, let them cool for at least five hours, then starting cutting. halfway through, i realized the middle was raw. i took the cooked slices i had and re-baked them, as stated in the recipe. i let those cool, then finally had a taste. they were very bland. i must have done something wrong! with all those ingredients, i don't know how they could be bland...and i bake all the time!
Lara, thanks so much.
Bron, I'm terribly jealous of your walnuts, and please let me know if you do try the crisps.
nadia, thanks so much for the visit.
Amanda, thrilled to hear it!
jodye and Mallory, thank you.
Margie, I could not agree more.
Julia, what a wonderful memory! Thanks for sharing.
Jen, thank you so much for the sweet compliment.
gastroanthropologist, thank you.
sandwicharchitecture, fresh figs, sugar and cream? Sounds divine.
Y, lovely to hear that you enjoy figs now. My husband was only introduced to fresh in adulthood, and as a child, they were only in cookies.
Anticiplate, please report back if you do!
Sneh | Gel's Kitchen, rustic is such a nice way to describe these; as they dry they ripple and curl, giving each their own look.
Juliana, happy you agree!
b., I am truly sorry to hear your difficulty with the crisps, and do not know what to say. The recipe was first tested by Julie, then her readers, then me, without report of any such difficulty. I can only assume that the cookies were not fully baked in the 45 minutes, as they should have been dry and spongy throughout - similar to a dense bead. So it may be a good idea to increase the cooking time if you do try making them again. As noted, the loaf should immediately spring back when touched in the centre, and look set. A cake tester could also be inserted, just to be sure.
As for the taste, that I cannot address. When I made these, they are suprisingly subtle, but I would not call them flavourless. They were nutty, vaguely sweet and scented with the thyme. My apologies that these did not suit you.
tara, no need to apologize! it's a recipe, not a guarantee. besides, ovens vary, and i probably did something [or didn't do something] to manipulate them. i do see [and taste] the potential in the crisps, however, and would love to give them another shot. i actually picked up some laughing cow cheese wedges the other day, and tried one spread on a crisp. it was delicious. i think tomorrow i may try them with some black raspberry preserves. i love how you can make them sweet or savory. thanks for sharing!
I could read this post over and over again! The cookies/crisps are wonderful!
b., so glad to hear that you've not given up on the recipe! I made them again this last weekend.
Tartelette, thanks so much!
beautiful post. what a fantastic writer. I am also, a big fig fan. Dried for convinience, fresh for the sweet memories. glad to have found your blog!
Hi! I found this recipe through a post on The Kitchn a few weeks ago. I've been haunted by the one sample of Rainforest Crisps I had at Whole Foods, but I resigned myself to never having them again since they were so expensive. This makes an excellent substitute. Thanks for sharing the recipe!
I substituted chopped pistachios for sunflower seeds and threw in a few pecans because I didn't have enough walnuts, and then added one tablespoon of Cointreau at the end because these seemed so fruitcake-like. The result is so incredibly good, I want to stand on the street and shout for the neighbors to come over and dig in... thank you for this recipe.