Fig-i-licious

As a child I remember seeing figs alone without their warm newton bed as the most impossible idea of anything I would want to eat.  The seediness of the fig-newton, (somewhat like a cheap hotel) couched cozily in the pillow of the cake was always a perfect package -- but alone -- naked -- brown shrunken looking wrinkly dried on a ring or... raw, green cut it open looking not done yet.. no thank you, where's my cookie?

I remember hearing stories how my grandfather hailing from Athens used to play hookie with his brothers and have fig fights at the Acropolis. . . unless wrapped in a "newton" I couldn't imagine that figs had any better use than shot put practice for the Olympics.

Last year, amazingly, a friend brought green figs from her tree in Echo Park to my house as dessert offering for our meal-- I thought to myself -- how long before these ripen and what will I do then? 

Amazingly, after dinner was over - we cut the green figs in half - laid them on a platter with walnuts and some candied pecans.  Amidst a smattering of goat cheese and grapes she squeezed honey right over the top!  Transformed to the clouds of Mount Olympus my Greek ancestors must've been smiling down.  I was trying to see if I could squeeze all the elements in one bite and then found myself pairing the parts -- a fig and a walnut -- a fig and a piece of goat cheese -- could it be? Just a fig with honey and there I was -- lapping up the sweet sticky figs with no honey at all... Hoopa!