In France, I fell in love with… figs

I sunk my teeth into it. Tearing the almost velvety but not so perfect dark skin. Soft. Penetrating its pith and my tongue was greeted with a sweetish taste. A bit rough with dust like coarseness. But I didn’t mind. For me, it was one of the memorable fruits I’ve eaten while in Paris (France) and then in Spain.

Sweet and delicious figs.

One thing that I look into when I’m in a new place, much more a new country in Europe is to check what they have in the market. And, being a fruit lover, I always try to taste what is local.

Coming from dinner alone in one of the cafes near the Eiffel Tower one cold and drizzly night, I chanced upon a fruit shop. Peaches, oranges, plums, bananas… but what caught my fancy were a few boxes of figs. It’s something not common or can be found in supermarkets back home.

I’m familiar with figs though. Trees of the genus Ficus are present in the Philippines and I’ve frequently encountered these during my treks in forests. But these are inedible. It was only once that I have eaten sweet figs from a tree while trekking in Maragusan in Compostela Valley and haven’t seen or tasted it again.

Now, with a bunch on a plastic container, I can’t help but purchase these. At around eight pieces of soft and ripe dark figs, it cost me 3.80 euros. When I was back in my room, I bit into one. And another. Until I’ve eaten three.

It was delicious. It’s not too sweet, just enough and that’s why I love it. Soft to bruise, one has to handle it with care. Some do pare the skin off but I have no qualms of eating it whole (after washing, of course) except for the tip.

When I did arrive in Barcelona, I was looking for figs but seems weren’t available. On my last night though in Terrassa, Barcelona’s neighbor, my friend Eduard did surprised me with some and other fruits!

I don’t know but I just love its taste!