Award-Winning Fig and Bay Leaf Jam

If you are lucky enough to have fruit trees in your yard, a pot, or in a community garden plot, or if you simply enjoy preserves when produce isn’t in season, jamming can help you remember the warm months when juicy peaches, plums, strawberries, and all manner of summer blooms are ripe for the taking. This is true even if the days are short and the leaves have fallen, leaving bare stalks on the trees with the promise of spring blooms bringing once again the supple, plump fruit attached. Here I’ve made a recipe for extra-simple fig jam, which can be made in approximately 30-minutes and requires only two base ingredients, though the option for bay leaf infusion will make your jams unusual, tempting, and savory. *UPDATE: I'm so happy with how this recipe turned out, I entered it into the Queens County Farm Museum Agricultural Fair Blue Ribbon Contest and won first-place in category! Try this award-winning recipe! See the bottom of this post for a photo of the ribbon.

One of the benefits to jamming is that in places such as New York, where I live, good quality preserves can be expensive and jamming from local produce can save money. If you happen to have a fruit tree for jamming, you will pay only for the sugar (which I recommend using minimally, which goes against the grain - but more on that later), lemons (or pectin), and any other flavor you want in it - though the last part isn’t a necessity to make sticky, satisfying preserves.

Jamming might also be a good reason to make friends with your neighbors with yards - feel free to offer them up a loaf cake or other homemade delights of your own in bartering for fruit they are growing - I often give my 100-year old neighbor figs from the fig tree I am lucky enough to have, because there are just too many for one household to eat when they bloom seemingly all at once. I bring them to my work colleagues and give jam away made in the early fall (or late summer) for Christmas to my far-away friends in mailed packages. If you are following this recipe as is, for figs, you will be even gladder to use local fruit - figs are difficult to find in the supermarket unless you have a specialty store near you or are in a climate zone that grows figs - they don’t often look that good on the supermarket shelves as they are temperamental, shriveling up if they are left too long in dry air, or getting moldy if kept wet. Not to worry if you find yourself with a lot of figs on your hands - they keep well in a cold fridge or freezer for several weeks if you have to ration them or are going out of town after your bloom, which can be tough to predict (as I did once, wondering if they would still be good when I got back. They were).

While this recipe focuses on figs, you can do this with many fruits, particularly if you have extra, you’ve left something to get a little too ripe, or you want your kitchen to smell delicious with leftover produce. The units in this recipe are loose - they can pretty much fit whatever amount of produce you have. Though jamming is often seen as a science (and it, like all cooking and baking, is), this is a bit more of an art. Jam recipes often use a 2:1 fruit to sugar ratio - this is to help the jam set through a chemical reaction as a thickening agent. However, I find most jams far too sweet and feel the sugar leads to a loss of the true fruit flavor in all its depth. Figs are extremely sweet already, but also sour, seedy, and dense. Unlike other fruits, figs are less juicy and avoid the dribble-down-your-chin phenomenon of ripe peaches, plums, and nectarines, while being more substantial than the tiny bites of blueberries and grapes. I see them akin to the eating experience of a strawberry or apricot, though more pleasant and unusual.

Figs hold a special place in my heart so much so that I even have an art print of a series of figs framed in my home. Why the affinity for the rare fruit? The fig tree in my home was planted decades ago by my grandfather, an immigrant from Croatia, a Balkan nation on the Adriatic Sea that produces figs in its temperate climate, much like Italy. I have fond memories of him showing me how to feel the fig to see if it is ripe and ready - it should have give to it, with the bottom center hole at the base of the fig puckering open. It should twist easily off the stem by hand. White, sticky milk may flow from the stem when separated. I test my figs this way still and it makes a difference - an underripe fig can be slightly gritty and lacks its signature sweetness. I recommend readers listen vicariously to my grandfather and test them for tenderness before pulling. If they are close, give them an extra day to get ready.

Figs grow well in Mediterranean climates, but often need to be bundled up in the winter, like a small child on a snow day from school. This is no longer the case in New York, as the climate has shifted from temperate to subtropical a few years ago thanks to human-induced climate change. This doesn’t mean your figs will be immune from an unpredictable cold snap, but they are less likely to irreparably freeze each winter. I remember my grandfather showing me how to wrap the fig trees in old carpet, tying them with big rope around, pulling in their elastic branches in the fall to ready them for winter, after their leaves had fallen and their fruit was just a lasting memory on the tongue. The New York Times wrote this article <https://www.nytimes.com/2020/07/24/nyregion/climate-change-nyc.html>

 a few years ago highlighting the changes in fig-wrapping practices from the Italian traditions when they were brought to the United States, thanks to the warming winters. This past year, the unpredictability also took a toll on timing. While figs used to always be a harbinger of September, we faced an early bloom in May and then a second coming in July and early August. By September, the figs were long gone, though a few unripened buds remain stunted on the tree by the October cold snap and asynchronous bloom.

If you aren’t tolerant to seeds (like my mom) or just don’t like the minuscule cannonballs that are fig seeds, you can add more water to this recipe and reduce it down less, so that you can strain it through a sieve. Make sure it is a fine sieve or better yet a chinois (the cone-shaped strainer) because those seeds really are quite teeny.

I don’t usually peel my figs before jamming them - I like a thick, seedy jam, for all the texture it entails. A strained jam will be thinner. The skins of the figs break down quite well and are easy to chew - they largely melt in the pot, particularly if you are using riper figs - peeling also gets more difficult for the riper figs, so consider picking or using them earlier if you are absolutely set on peeling in advance.

Begin with a pound of figs, around 15 of them if they are moderately large. Wash them well with water and do not be alarmed if any green skins slough off, particularly if the figs are older. Figs have little puckers at the top of their round shape where they disconnected from the stem, which are harder and don’t have meaty pink seeds inside. You can still jam them with the little bit of remaining green stem-connector on, but I recommend taking a paring knife and just lopping off the little top, not cutting into the seeds below. If you’ve hit red, you’ve gone too far - it should look as if you took the fig’s tiny hat off and left it as an orb rather than a teardrop shape.

Start a small pot on medium heat with a little layer of water in the bottom - just enough to cover the bottom of the pot. This can keep the sugars in the figs from burning as they get going. Cut or shred with your fingers the figs into two or three pieces to get the breakdown started. Add all the figs in and stir them a little to get the heat distributed. You should start to see bubbles, as the figs start to break down and boil.

Add the juice of one lemon - I like to pick a large lemon, as I find the flavor of the citrus complements the fig, in addition to it serving its chemical purpose in jamming. I like to use my paring knife to take a few slices out of the lemon rind - place your knife fairly parallel to the lemon skin and sheer off small strips of the outer yellow layer. You can add approximately four of these to the pot as well to get the taste of the lemon - zesting half of the lemon would work equally well.

I find sugar to be unnecessary in fig jam if you don’t need to preserve them for very long periods (such as over six months). If you are content to have them less thick and “set” and to keep them for a few months only, skip the sugar. If adding sugar, I recommend no more than a quarter of a cup or your jam will begin to taste quite saccharine and store-bought.

Boil and stir periodically for approximately 30 minutes. Note that the hot jam will be thinner than when it is allowed to cool - it will appear less thick before canning. Make sure the skins have broken down, and take to mashing them with your spoon - wooden is best if you have one. Your jam will not become perfectly uniform, and chunks of cooked skin will remain, though it will be very soft and pleasant when eaten, adding texture to toast or pastries.

This is already sufficient for top-notch jam, but adding additional flavors can be satisfying and add depth and dimension. I have a bay leaf tree (bush?) also from my grandfather - the smell reminds me of my grandmother’s cooking growing up, which used bay leaves often. It is a savory flavor, less herbal than cozy. To me, the smell and taste of bay leaves is the smell of warm, comfortable foods, like gravies, soups, and sauces put on pilafs, pastas, and risottos. Add three bay leaves to your jam as you cook it down, remembering to take them out at the end before canning.

When your jam has thickened up and boiled for about 30 minutes, turn off the heat and get jars ready. If you plan to use your jam immediately, there is no need to can - put the jam out fresh and hot, or put it in a lidded container in your refrigerator to use for a week - it is great with cheese boards, as the base of pastry tarts with phyllo dough or puff pastry, often paired with savory ingredients, like blue cheese, pine nuts, onions, and thyme.

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Ingredient List:

• 1 lb Figs

• 3 Bay Leaves

• 1 Large Lemon

• 1 tbs Sugar

• ¼ cup Water

Equipment List:

• Small pot (enough to hold your figs)

• Paring knife (or any small knife with a sharp or serrated blade)

• Stirring spoon (wooden preferred)

• Cans/jars for your completed jam

• Compost container to put fig tips and spent bay leaves

Steps:

1. Wash figs well with warm water

2. Trim tips from the fig - if you are trimming down to the seeds you’ve gone too far. Just clip off the tough tip at the top where the fig met its stem

3. Pour just enough water into your pot to cover the bottom of the pot (about a quarter of a cup) and turn it on to medium heat

4. Add the washed, trimmed figs in whole or in thirds or halves. Stir them as the mixture begins to bubble and bring the heat to medium-high heat to boil

5. Add strips or zest of the rind of a half a lemon and add the juice of the whole lemon

6. Stir in one tablespoon of granulated sugar

7. Add the bay leaves

8. Boil the fruit mixture and stir periodically as the mixture breaks down. Use the back of your spoon to mash the figs as you stir, breaking down the skins.

9. Turn off the mixture when the fruit mix has thickened and sticks to the spoon.

10. Can or contain and store your jam, or use immediately and strain if desired