We do a lot of porch "settin'"--that is, opening the front door and strolling out into the yard, maybe to water the garden, maybe to splash in the pool, maybe to kick a ball around (Jez loves this), or maybe, as seen here, to get only as far as a good settin' spot for a little snack (Jez loves this, too, although her expression here is more of the "I have very bad news for the dog if she chooses to come towards my peaches" sort.) Today started out "settin'"; I with my coffee, Winnie and Jez with their pool. (Papa Bear was making rock and roll history in the studio). I felt the local calendar of fun events nagging at me, encouraging me to soak up the summer day at one of the two local fests that were happening, each of which would have been fun and playful and good. But I was not to be moved from that porch until the fig tree called my name. Sorry, festivals, we've got some figs to simmer and stir.
One quick google search later, we were decided: Fig Newtons and Fig Jam. A) Because as good as the broiled fig with pine nuts and chevre sounded, I wanted me some cookies and B) there's something exciting about making something from the garden to be enjoyed at an agreed upon far off, rainy, overcast, chilly date. In this case: Fig Jam on November 25th-- Thanksgiving and Winona's Fifth Birthday.

Since we couldn't wait for the "cookies" to cool, we cut up one of our creations to look more like a torte, whipped up some cream and whallah! Fig torte.
The next batch, we allowed to cool and cut them into proper cookies.

A good day. Go figure. (That's all Mike. The rest of us endured a lot of Fig play on words- consider yourself getting off easy).

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