Once again this summer I’m faced with more figs than I know what to do with. So I made a messy, but delicious Raspberry Fig Pie. I’m kind of embarrassed to say this, but I had to buy the raspberries. I’m not saying that there’s a thing wrong with buying fruit. With the exception of figs and lemons, I buy all my fruit. What’s embarrassing is this: I bought the raspberries to disguise the fact that I’m presenting yet another fig recipe this summer. I think this makes five (and I have one more idea in the works).
Think of the raspberries as subterfuge.
Raspberry Fig Pie
When faced with raspberries I typically think of tarts. It’s easy to imagine a buttery crust overflowing with sweet pastry cream or sour lemon curd topped with regimented rows of a bright red berries. But I’ll be honest, a tart like that is too staid to benefit from the addition of figs. Tarts like that can be beautiful and even delicious. However, they’re the kind of thing your introverted aunt serves to her pastor at tea time. Figs have a sexy allure. They would have both the aunt and the pastor blushing at the predicament they find themselves in. No, I wouldn’t want to ruffle anyone’s delicate sensibilities with too many understated possibilities.
So instead I chose the direct approach and made a sloppy Raspberry Fig Pie, just oozing with juice. I didn’t even cover all that glorious mess with a top crust. Have I no shame?
The metaphors are as ripe as the figs I realize. But I’d like to give your aunt a chance to be as direct as possible with that handsome pastor. That way there’s no need to think of this Raspberry Fig Pie as subterfuge. Unless of course your metaphors are messier than mine. GREG