Who Gives a Fig?

Who Gives a Fig?

Figs from the geodesic greenhouse dome were brought over to the kitchen where my Pastry Chef goes to work early in the mornings these days. A smallish batch.

My Poet turned it into fig jam.

He brings home a little for me to sample.

Tasting, and slowly recognizing — it’s been so long: “OOh! … Fig*?!! Jam!*”

I would have never thought! I love figs. Black Mission figs, brown Turkey figs. How nice to have a geodome to grow a fig tree — how nice not having local wildlife taking off all the figs too.

I imagine ‘Fig Chocolate Tarts’ flying out the pastry case. Wouldn’t that just be heavenly? Or maybe it d be ‘Apple-Fig Cake’…. One really cannot always predict genius.

Insisting on quite a several more spoonfuullls of sampling, I think out loud as I taste: “How exotic. … Your fig pastries… they um… are so labeled, and yummm flying off the shelf, … mmm, aren’t they?”

Oooh the possibilities. Perhaps my Man’s been putting out ‘Fig & Berries’ breakfast crumpets? Hardly. Maybe ‘Figs & Dates – Higos y Dátiles…’ no, better stick to English. Well, how about something like ‘Walnut-Fig— ‘ or should it be ‘Pecan-‘, such as in ‘— Pie’ … Because you know: proper marketing in that kitchen requires not only simply plating pretty food but also a lil good ole bit of basic informative labeling so as to clearly communicate to the customer what their choices are. An aptly named pastry will sell what would be otherwise be an unsold, murky-looking, mystery pastry. Not to mention a treat exotically named with something like ‘Figs….’ hmm, ‘Figs & — ’—

“Oh. No. Not at all. The fig doesn’t go out front.”

I crash. “What? You’re ~not putting exotic fig-stuff out?? Why not? … Who’s using it then? Catering?”

“No. Ah. Really, there’s not that much jam — it wasn’t a lot of figs to begin with. And the last time, when they brought figs over from the geodome last year (which was even less than this year’s batch) I put out a chocolate mousse tower in a base of fig. Well…

‘A customer… one of the regulars, complained very sourly that she didn’t know what on earth the stuff I had put at the bottom but that it tasted like ‘stale beer’ and she never wanted to see/taste that gunk again.”

“HMm.” People around here this place, these days; really. At times I hardly know what to think – me and my Honey, we’re strangers in a strange land sometime, really. I wait for for him to continue.

But shrugging, he only finishes: “I’ve been having it with my oatmeal breakfast most mornings.”

“Oh! … … …Yumm.”

I do not need to ask. Totally betcha those never-especially-useful baristas up front had neglected the pastry case as usual. Responsible as they are among other things, for ahem setting out these labels that inform. Tsk. Completely missing the target on a most basic marketing and promotion principle.

Promotion ain’t that hard. It’s as simple as mere presentation sometimes. ‘Chocolate & Fig…’ wasn’t that my first guess?