Do you want the summer on a plate in seconds? You do? That’s lucky. Welcome back to Dig In: Quick, mostly-veggie recipes that are highly flexible and get the abundance of the summer garden on your plate with minimal effort so everyone can just dig in.
During June and July (and possibly some of August depending on the move to Wales) I will be revisiting the Dig In series of last summer where I share quick, easy and flexible recipes that make the most of the season.
Life is going to be especially hectic during the move, so rather than fret about not showing up here enough, I’m leaning into the chaos. Because I figure you’ve probably got a busy summer too, right?
But chaos is no reason to resort to fish fingers. I refuse to believe that eating beautiful, veg-forward food should be a faff. And this summer, I intend to prove that and I’d love you to come along for the ride to discover new ways to eat well and joyfully, without it taking all day.
More time in the sunshine for you; more time unpacking boxes for me.
Catch up on the story so far in the Dig In library.
By which I mean it will cease to be mine. Not that it will cease to be. Not altogether. Hopefully. Grammer, eh?
Well, regulars may recall the fickleness of my fig tree. Initially recalcitrant; later obscenely abundant; always rebellious; it has been a capricious companion in the garden for almost 20 years. But our tempestuous relationship has resulted in countless recipes:
My move to Wales means the tree will have new custodians, and I wonder if they know what a fickle mistress their new fig will be?
But the housing market is proving almost as unpredictable as the fig tree, and so we are still ‘tying things up’ which is stressful and annoying and tedious in that way that all first world problems are.
But it has one big advantage: we get the fig harvest. They may turn out to be the most expensive figs in history, but they are, at least, indecently abundant this year. Silver. Linings.
And since I’m flitting away my time fretting about houses and in need of comfort food, I’m happy to have made this work-of-moments ice-cream which is quick and comforting in equal measure and a flapjack crumble topping that is so addictive I will be issuing a warning with the recipe.
In the meantime, thoughts and prayers, please.
Come and cook the fig glut live with me next week in this month’s cookery demo live from my greenhouse. This will (hopefully) be the last one from that greenhouse so I’d love it if you could come and give her a good send-off. Here’s the plan:
WHEN: Wednesday 26th August at 1pm UK time
WHERE: Live from my greenhouse here on Substack
WHAT: Three Ways with Figs
I’ll show you the fig tree!
We’ll pick a bucketful of figs and cook 3 easy recipes to celebrate the harvest
Paid subscribers have a season ticket to my greenhouse classes. And you’d be amazed how many people we can fit in a greenhouse (!) so if you’d like to join us, you can upgrade for 77p/wk.
It works like Instagram Live (ie: you can see me, I can’t see you, and there’s a live text chat for you to ask questions.) You join via the Substack app or desktop. Just click here at 1pm on Wednesday (or click now to add it to your calendar. Fancy.):
REPLAYS: You can rewatch previous classes and chats anytime, including this one which I’ll post afterwards for anyone who missed it. Here’s an example of what we get up to:
If you have enough figs, double the ice-cream quantities so you use a whole tin of condensed milk (satisfying) and have a well-stocked freezer. Be sure to use immodestly ripe figs because the flavour is deadened by freezing. And, obviously, the crumble is a handy option for all sorts of dessert emergencies. And even breakfasts, where it can knock granola out the park.
Serves 6
6 figs
For the crumble (WARNING: Addictive):
125g butter
110g demerara sugar
1 tbsp runny honey
185g porridge oats
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