Figos=Higos=Figs!

We spent last weekend in Diego's hometown. They have an old very traditional house with a few levels-the bottom level still untouched with stables and areas for the animals (no animals now)- the kitchen with a woodburning stove-and the main level with a very old grandfather clock and stone windows with wooden shutters, simple and so lovely. We went to celebrate the yearly party which meant a very big dinner on Sunday afternoon (we were at the table for four hours with plate after plate of seafood, meat, and desserts). But earlier, on Sunday morning Diego and I explored the huerta- the orchards and farmland of the family. We packed a bags of homegrown potatoes and onions fresh from the ground, ate plums straight off the trees, and much to my surprise checked on the kiwi plants(!) and the fig tree(!). I knew about other fruits, potatoes, onions and hydrangea bushes, but the fig tree was a happy surprise and I'm eager to go back soon when the figs are ready to try more than one mouthwatering recipe I've seen on design*sponge and Bitten latley!