Not long ago a friend described the process of wrapping her fig tree—Ficus carica–for the winter. The image triggered a cascade of memories, going back to my childhood in western New York State. My town had a very large Italian-American population and many families, especially those with immigrant parents or grandparents, grew figs. I am sure multiple varieties grew in multiple backyards, but the ‘Brown Turkey’ type seemed to be the most popular. In the fall the old men—it always seemed to be the grandfathers—would plant sturdy stakes around the trees and gently swathe them in yards of burlap for protection against the cold. It must have worked, because the trees survived and every summer they provided bountiful crops of sweet fruit. A friend who lives in my town has given me some of his fresh figs on occasion. Their sweet, melting taste is unforgettable.
Figs, which originated in Turkey and Iraq, have been with us for a long time. Martyn Rix, in the wonderful book, The Botanical Garden, writes that they were cultivated 6,000 years ago in Egypt. The ancient Greeks associated the plant with Dionysus and his pleasure-loving ways, as well as Demeter, goddess of grain. The Romans also revered the fig tree, under which Romulus and Remus, founders of Rome, were reputedly suckled by a she-wolf. Perhaps because of that, the tree was treated as a symbol of good luck. Then, as now, people relished positive symbolism as well as tasty fruit. The great Roman naturalist Pliny, writing in the first century A.D., described over twenty fig varieties.
Figs have also been symbols of security and stability in the Judeo-Christian tradition. I am reminded of the passage from the Old Testament Book of Micah about every man sitting under his “vine and fig tree.” When I think about it, most of the families in my hometown who grew fig trees also raised a grape vine or two.
Roman legions took the sweet-fruited tree with them to Britain and it stayed, even after the Romans left, thriving in many places. It came to the colonies early, arriving in Florida and elsewhere with the Spanish in the sixteenth century. Captain John Smith, whose name lives on because of his role in the Pocahontas story, wrote in 1621 of figs being brought to Jamestown from Bermuda. As is their historical habit, they took root and became popular. Thomas Jefferson, ever anxious to produce as many top-quality edible plants as possible, grew ‘Marseilles’ figs at Monticello. Similar plants still thrive in restored gardens on the estate.
I saw a large, handsome fig tree on my last visit to Monticello, sheltered near a brick wall on a terrace below the extensive kitchen garden. Like all figs, it was a handsome plant, bushy, with large, deeply lobed leaves. It was covered with green teardrop-shaped fruits. These days, with Jefferson no longer around to sample the ripe figs and share with his friends, they are distributed to the Monticello staff.
If you decide to grow figs at home, pick a variety that is right for your USDA climate zone. The ‘Brown Turkey’ cultivar that grew in my hometown is one of many that survive in cold-winter climates. Make sure to select a self-pollinating plant, because most places outside of the Mediterranean are inhospitable to the insects that traditionally pollinate figs.
Figs need a sheltered, sunny spot, preferably one that receives at least six hours of direct sunlight per day. If you can’t grow it in-ground, your fig tree will be very happy in a large container under the same sunny, protected conditions. In either situation, mulch to preserve soil moisture and nourish the plant. For potted figs, water when the surface of the soil is dry. Provide supplemental water to in-ground plants during dry spells. Organic growers favor feeding figs once a month with liquid seaweed (kelp), which can also be applied as a foliar spray. Traditional all-purpose fertilizer will do the same job. Feeding is especially necessary for container-grown figs, because potting mixes eventually become depleted.
And, of course, in climates where temperatures dip below freezing, winter care is important. Potted figs can be overwintered in unheated spaces that stay above freezing. In-ground figs sink deep roots, but protecting the above-ground portion will pay off. Make a snug cocoon for your plant using stakes and burlap, or a hardware cloth cage filled with straw. Secure it well to withstand winter’s high winds. This will also work for potted figs in containers too heavy to move. Unwrap in spring after all danger of frost has passed. The plant may look dead, but take hope and wait a bit before passing judgment. Many a dead-looking fig has grown back from its roots.
The memory cascade triggered by my friend’s fig tree has brought me back to “figgy pudding,” celebrated in Christmas carols and part of my own cultural heritage. I don’t have a fig tree yet–though I might just order one next spring–but I can celebrate by making my own figgy Christmas pudding. As the old year goes out, it seems right to connect past, present and future with something rich and warm.