When I was between the ages of 3 and 5 my mother would occasionally visit one of our elderly neighbors. I don't recall her name, or what we did there, but I do remember eating one of the most delicious things I had ever had in my short life. It was the kind of taste one's palette is so blow away by that you remember the moment your mouth first experience such joy.
We moved away when I was 5, and I did not have one of these delicacies again for another 23 years.
Apparently my parents did not share in my enthusiasm for this mystery fruit because the never purchased one or mentioned them in all that time. I thought about the taste over the years, but I had no idea what I had eaten. The grocery stores I frequented didn't often vary their stock, so I was limited in what I was able to try.
I moved to Roanoke, VA when I was 28 and it changed my life. One day while shopping in the local Kroger I noticed something new and different in the produce department. The sight of this delicate, greenish, teardrop shaped fruit stirred something in me. Grocery budget be damned I had to have some of these. When I arrived home I immediately released my purchase from its protective plastic box. The soft yielding flesh further encouraged me that I had at last found the taste of a childhood memory. I cut it in half and revealed the pleasantly repulsive insides which resemble something between guts and a flower. In the first bite I felt the release of a childhood longing. Something I had been searching for all my life, a sweet connection to my past. The delicious fig.
You know I share you love for figs!! I was quite excited when I saw my friends tree also in bloom. I have people keeping tabs on their growth so we can get a good amount before the birds do! What a wonderful memory the first fig truly is, wonderfully delicious. :)
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