My parents’ fig tree was brought here illegally by my father in 1957 despite the risk of being confiscated and fined. I guess he was trying hard to smuggle a little dream of Abruzzese sweetness into a cold Northeastern climate.
|August - Our first harvest|
The fig tree outlived my father and now we carry on the legacy of nurturing the tree. The reward for this care is worth the minimal effort. In late August, after eating a fig right off the tree - honey like and fragile – it is easy to understand why someone would try so hard to grow a Mediterranean tree under such unfriendly conditions.
|A delicious obsession|
Today, our children have their own little fig tree. For us, it signifies family unity, strength and perseverance.