All the fig trees in my suburb are in full fruit.

 

Each day, as I walk or run around the suburb I watch their progress with great interest. Over the last few weeks each has been carefully covered with a giant hairnet, or some other home made netting, to protect the ripening fruit from the local birds and possums.

I often dream of having a fig tree and each year getting a harvest of figs. A bounty to be eaten, cooked and preserved. Where I live, despite being surrounded by figs, fresh ones are expensive in the shops and unfortunately all the trees I've spotted are located well within the boundaries of each house, so there is little chance of any pavement over-hang harvesting.

If I did have a harvest of figs however, this is what I would make:

 

For the moment though, I shall keep on dreaming.

 

Saturday night we had a Christmas Party at home. I catered for 20 people, producing plenty of food. At the end of the evening this was the state of my kitchen.

 

No plates piled high with soggy bits of leftover food, dirty pans or buckets of cutlery. No feeling of defeat and exhaustion as I stared at the mountain of washing up and cleaning to be done.

 

Instead there were a few platters, plates, wine glasses and small cups. That's it.

 

Oh yes and, for those of you interested, I've talked before about cooking in a small kitchen. Anyway, this is the main benchspace in my kitchen.