I can’t believe I assigned myself a story about figs. As I type this second sentence, ploddingly, while sitting in a sweatshirt and sports bra on my gray faux-suede Macy’s sofa, I am fully aware that I am pumping it with meaningless details about my clothing and whereabouts to distract from the subject at hand:
Figs.
I don’t want to write about figs. I have to write about figs — fresh ones, to be exact. It is my civic duty as a consumer and distributor of digital media because lately, as I’ve hunkered down each morning to partake in the associated responsibility of eating the internet for breakfast, I’ve been served up giant, juicy platefuls of — you guessed it — figs.
They’re everywhere lately. Have you noticed? If you follow any wellness blogger worth her weight in pink Himalayan sea salt, my guess is yes. Maybe you haven’t registered the fact, but mark my 350 words, if you venture into their Instagram feeds posthaste and scroll, you’re bound to be confronted with evidence. They’re all over culinary websites, too.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Avocados have been reigning supreme for eons and it was only a matter of time before some other vulva-connoting edible substance edged them off the toast/bowl throne. Though it’s hard to compete with nature’s butter, figs are giving avocados the biggest run for their “likes” I’ve seen since that whole unicorn upheaval.
So what’s the big deal? Why are people so obsessed?
I have a few theories:
1. The unique combination of sweet flesh and soft skin is long-deserving of a global platform. It’s basically candied cannibalism.
2. Fig Newtons are finally exacting revenge for all the times they’ve been maligned.
3. This is all a ploy to get people to eat more ricotta (for the uninitiated, ricotta is the most popular adherent of choice for fig-to-toast suction — the peanut butter to its banana, if you will).
What do you think? Am I onto something? Are you getting figgy with it? Should I put on a real shirt? Let’s hash it all out in the comments.
Photo by Louisiana Mei Gelpi.
