Besides growing tomatoes in the garden, the most common plant seen in the Italian-American backyard is the fig tree. A favorite among Italians as well as their relatives in the USA, the fig is a fruit that evokes memories and literally helps us lay down “roots” that connect to the homeland. For anyone with Italian heritage in the USA, the chances are good that you’re familiar with this tree.
For me, I have memories of going to my grandparent’s house in the summer and walking through what seemed like a grove of fig trees, in full growth and full of figs. The dozen or so fig trees lining the side and scattered throughout my grandpa’s back yard had a distinct smell, and when any leaves were snapped off, a troublesome and sticky gum would ooze out. The trees weren’t any good for climbing, either – the branches would bend over when I could find a foothold.
The one important and redeeming quality of the fig tree forest was the sweet fruit: it was a wonderful place to get a sweet snack. Sometimes I would pick a too-ripe fig, sometimes I’d get a somewhat tasteless and watery fig, but the payoff was when I’d discover that “perfect” fig – sweet, firm, and plump. My grandpa’s yard had other wonders as well – a substantial vegetable garden, a maze of rose bushes, and clumps of flourishing banana trees that produced ultra-sweet dwarf bananas.
But the figs were my favorite. I looked forward to picking them in the late spring when the trees would produce. I also loved to eat them in the winter – when my grandmother and my aunts would use dried figs to bake fig cakes – cuccidatti. (But that’s a different story!).
Fast forward to my adulthood – long after my grandparents had passed, and I had my own home. I missed those days, so I tried to recreate it in my own backyard. I didn’t have the expansive lot my grandpa had, but I was able to plant two fig trees as well as propagate a cutting from the very same banana trees that he grew.
I’ll never experience my childhood again, romping outside in the Louisiana summer in the shade of my grandparent’s fig grove, but I can relive it through the tastes and smells of those days, all over again.
Did you have fig trees growing up? Do you carry on this tradition? Let me know in the comments!
If you liked reading about fig trees, and want to read more, check out this article “The Italian Immigrants Who Grew Fig Trees in Unlikely Places“.
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