This weekend we went out for an anniversary dinner at a place far, far away in Hastings on the Hudson. Funny how you can go 20 miles from Rye and it is a matter of 3 highways to get there. Harvest is known for sophisticated, local, organic offerings.
Although we had a 6:00pm reservation, (NO laughing, why oh why would be go to a place on the Hudson river, surrounded by gardens in the dark?), it was quite crowded with three simultaneous parties in progress.
We must have had that, please, please, it is an anniversary dinner, no kids screeching look about us, so the hostess seated us only somewhat near a sedate celebration of a 60th birthday. Our corner table was lovely, the waitress had a actual opinion on the food and she steered us very competently through a delicious meal.
Appetizers were portabello mushroom polenta and figs with a balsamic glaze.
I can't believe I have gone so many years without appreciating the fig. I claim to dislike only raisins, but really other similarly textured foods, olives and dates come to mind, make me physically uncomfortable. I always assumed figs were in the same back-of-the-neck-crawling category.
The first time I had figs was a couple of years ago, when we were invited to a dinner at the celebrated Rao's on 114th Street. At that time, the figs were served plain and were allegedly fresh off a tree from the backyard of the owner of the restaurant. I say "allegedly" in a purely conversational sense, of course...!
Now I have a craving for halved fresh fig, a small scoop of gorgonzola and a drizzle of balsamic. How long do you think it takes to grow a fig tree?



