Munching numbers

Reading from a news story...

Me: Not to be a downer, but the average Thanksgiving dinner has 3,000 calories and 229 grams of fat.

Anonymous friend:...with any luck.

Epic turkey-cooking music: Alice's Restaurant (the reprise) by Arlo Guthrie.

Learning languages

I knew it would be a good day when I tried to call a source yesterday morning and got a wrong number. The man who answered the phone spoke Spanish (or maybe Italian?) because this is how our conversation went down:

Man: Si?

Me: Hello? Is Joy available? 

Man (flustered...in thick accent): No, no...no Joy. 

Me: Oh wrong number? 

Man: Yes...wrong.

Me: Ok, sorry to bother you. 

Man: Ok, love you. 

Maybe he meant "thank you" or just "goodbye," but either way, I wanted to say, "Ok, I love you, too."

Later that day, I interviewed Phila Hach, an 82-year-old chef, at her home, and of course, she insisted like any good southerner that we (photographer John and I) stay for lunch. She told stories. She dug out photo albums, and she offered advice on everything from roasting turkey to living in the moment and learning to appreciate the wisp of a cloud. Even though she has traveled the world and shared her table with Johnny and June, Julia Child, and presidents of many nations, I'm always struck by her utterly down-to-earth and genuine way. 

"Be real," she once told me, "with your cooking and your life."

And while I try to lap up her wisdom every chance I get, it's food she seems happiest dishing -- slipping her guests an extra roll here, or a spoonful of dumplings there -- at which point we might ought to say, "Ok, Ms. Phila, we love you, too." 

Listening to: Days Like This by Van Morrison

We be jammin'

It's been noted that the Buddha found enlightenment under a fig tree, and not more than three chapters into the Bible, Adam and Eve got creative with some fig branches to make Eden's first fashion statement. Cleopatra, too, named them her favorite fruit. So perhaps I'd be putting it lightly to say that figs are kind of a big deal.

That said I feel a tad irreverent also calling them the single sexiest fruit to behold. But they're so feminine -- dark and mysterious on the outside with just a thin layer of skin holding together those orbs of ruby flesh. Delicate, yes, yet powerful with a taste that's exotic, sweet and full of life. 

I loaded up on some fresh figs the other day and then realized I'd have to find ways to use them all -- quickly -- because they don't stick around long. 

I made some open-faced roasted fig sandwiches with arugula, walnuts and Parmesan, and I loved how the cayenne keeps these sandwiches spicy along with the sweet of the figs and caramelized onion. 

But the recipe I most liked during my fig extravaganza was the version of fig jam below. It's nothing more than fruit, honey, toasted sesame seeds and black pepper. No high fructose corn syrup. No pectin. And with the sesame seeds giving it a nutty flavor, it tastes sort of like a much classier version of peanut butter and jelly...if you made the sandwich in, say, Marrakech. And more than on bread, it goes well with eggs on toast at breakfast or with cheese as an hors d'oeuvre. After this jam, you'll never want a Fig Newton again. 

Fig Spread

1 1/2 pounds ripe fresh figs, stemmed and cut into 1/4-inch dice

1/4 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice

1/3 cup honey

1/4 teaspoon freshly grated black pepper, plus more as needed

1/4 cup toasted unhulled sesame seeds

Toss the chopped figs and lemon juice together in a large bowl. Stir in the honey and black pepper and set aside for 10 minutes. The figs will start to break down and get soupy. Pour the fig mixture in to a large, heavy pot over medium heat and bring to a slow, gurgling boil. Cook, stirring constantly, until the figs start to reduce and thicken, about 10 to 15 minutes. Stir in the sesame seeds and remove from the heat. Let the spread sit for 5 minutes, taste, and add more pepper to taste if needed. 

This spread may be canned as you would other jams, but it keeps well for up to a week in the refrigerator. 

- From Super Natural Cooking by Heidi Swanson.

Jam-making music: Honey by Erykah Badu

Bug bites

Yesterday, I ate a cricket. 

And it didn't taste like chicken. 

To read more, visit my work blog. 

Listening to: "It's too Late, She's Gone" by Buddy Holly and The Crickets