I am a firm believer – and experience does bear my theory out - that anyone living in an urban environment is never too far away from a fig tree. I think this is a much nicer way of thinking about the urban realities of proximity than the usual how many feet we all are from a rat (an urban myth? I think so). Fig trees are opportunistic and seem to thrive anywhere in around a teaspoon of soil, even fruiting, I am told, in hardy allotments in Scotland. Back when we were photographing Leaf, there was even one pushing up - and flourishing - through a crack in the concrete underneath the studio’s fire escape.
I have a small one in a pot which this year produced its first bumper crop of properly ripe figs, but when I want a big supply of leaves, I head for Hanwell Cemetery.
The two cemeteries which flank the Uxbridge Road in my bit of West London are a nature rich haven. I discovered them years ago when Adam was in a pushchair and I needed somewhere to walk. And now, when the wilder areas around me turn into mud slicks, having their paved pathways to tramp around is a boon, especially when they crisscross through graveyards which are literally teeming with wild life and sheltered by high walls and broad canopied trees. And these spaces are so quiet. I walk through the gates of either one and the traffic noise gradually muffles. The north side has a long driveway flanked by deep yew and holly hedges which quite dramatically frames the birds of prey I often see gliding over the cemetery heart; the south side is more open – but this is where I go to for fig leaves. The figs themselves never amount to much on this tree – stay hard and green and I can only assume because the roots were never contained (I wonder if it was planted or self seeded?). But the leaves are always abundant.
I’ve written a lot about fig leaves in my book Leaf. There are many leaves which can provide compensation when a fruiting crop on the same tree has disappointed and fig leaves are the ones I think offer the most. They add so much to savoury and sweet dishes – wraps for fish or delicate ricottas, flavouring a pilaf, infused with anything dairy for custards, ice creams – and in one of today’s recipes, rice pudding. And as the figs in the shops are so good at the moment, I’ve created a jammy fig compote to go with.
Fig Leaf Rice Pudding
Quite a few people find the concept of pressure cooking rice pudding tricky. It does seem counter intuitive as milk can catch on the bottom of any saucepan so quickly. And I have had messages here and there saying that this has happened. It should not happen when you pressure cook milk. Just remember that you need to give it a good stir before you put the lid on and that you need to bring it up to pressure as quickly as possible. If you do both these things you should have no problems.
A note on the milk. I always use whole milk – there has been the odd occasion when I have used semi-skimmed, not out of choice, and the pudding has felt thinner and I have had to reduce it afterwards – not what you want to spend time doing. I suggest coconut milk as an alternative to cow’s milk in this recipe, not because I want to create a plant based recipe – I always put butter in mine – but because coconut milk compliments fig leaves so much. Out of preference, I would use powdered or from a carton (making sure the latter doesn’t have too many additives) – the tinned stuff is too thick and often leaves too much of an oily slick on top of your pudding.
This makes quite a lot – probably 6 generously – so you can half it if you like.
2 fig leaves
150g short grain rice (pudding, risotto etc.)
900ml whole milk or coconut milk
75g light soft brown sugar
40g butter (optional)
First, heat your pressure cooker and add the fig leaves. Toast them lightly for a couple of minutes until the lightly toasted aroma of tonka bean or coconut sings out, then add all the remaining ingredients and a pinch of salt. Stir, making sure nothing is sticking to the base of your pressure cooker.
Bring up to high pressure, then reduce the heat to maintain the pressure. Cook for 15 minutes, then leave to drop pressure naturally.
Open and stir thoroughly – you may find some of the rice has clumped together but it will be well cooked and the milk will have thickened into a creamy sauce around the rice. If it seems at all runny, don’t worry - it thickens considerably as it cools. Remove the fig leaves before serving.
For the Fig Compote:
100ml PX or similar sweet sherry
25g honey
6-8 figs, cut into quarters
Put the sherry and honey into your pressure cooker and heat very gently to dissolve the honey. Arrange the figs over the base, skin side down. Close the lid and bring up to high pressure. Reduce the heat to maintain the pressure, then cook for 3 minutes. Fast release the pressure. Reduce the liquid a little until very syrupy, but don’t go overboard as it will thicken as it cools. Serve spooned over the rice pudding.
It occurred to me after making this that throwing in a handful of blackberries after pressure cooking and just heating until they burst would have been a really good addition. And really, as long as you stick to the same rice:liquid ratios and timings, you can play around with this recipe to your heart’s content. I love a piece of pared lemon and a couple of bay leaves in the rice pudding, with a compote of blackberries. The recipe in Modern Pressure Cooking has cardamom pods and is served with baked rhubarb. If you like saffron in sweet things, a generous pinch of this with a little lemon and a rose scented fruit compote (try apricots) works beautifully.
I mentioned a post about pasta for this week and I’m hoping that will still happen. There is a lot to say about it!
We used to have a huge fig tree which grew against the walls of our stone barn in South Wales. The fruit was plentiful and delicious. Yesterday we had to make do with supermarket figs which I baked with butter, Demerara sugar and a very generous slug of vintage port (my excuse was that the bottle had been open too long. Absolutely delicious. I am forgoing treats like rice pudding until I am at my goal weight although I could be very tempted by your recipe. I remember it being my favourite pudding baked by my Nana in the 1950s. I always got the burnished gold skin. Yum!
Must try this, although here by the seaside in the NW we don’t seem to have fig trees about? The fig compote with rice pudding sounds fabulous. Thank you.