KITCHEN INSPO: Figs and Whipped Cream Cheese
An easy tartine for breakfast or lunch.
Sometimes when I write this column, I share recipes I’ve recently concocted, but what happens when I haven’t actually taken the time to figure out measurements or formalize the method? Well, I usually flag the dish and aim to remake it, hoping to jot down essential information the second time around so I can responsibly pass along a polished recipe to the readers.
In reality what happens is that the dish becomes one of many ambitions that just kind of gets lost in the ether, at best resurfacing in a “Stuff I’ve Been Cooking” newsletter a month later.
That’s a bummer. There are so many cool experiments I want to yammer on about, but the only thing holding me back are the technical details. There has to be a better way.
Maybe there is? I’ve decided that in order to release myself from the formalities of a recipe, I need to ditch the recipe itself. I don’t mean scrapping the dish. Instead it’s more like saying “Hey, here’s something I made. This is generally how I did it, and now use this as inspiration to make your own.”
I would much rather share what’s happening in my kitchen, even if it’s a little loosey-goosey, instead of getting hung up and stalled out on how many teaspoons of caraway seeds I added to a soup.
So, it’s in that spirit that I’ve decided to play around with a new concept: “Kitchen Inspo.” Maybe not the most creative or interesting name, but it gets the point across pretty efficiently. These are semi-recipes: a written method without formal measurements — kind of like if you were at coffee telling your friend what you made for dinner last night. Hopefully, these columns will inspire you to make something similar, and if all goes well, maybe I will circle back with some official measurements and timing.
I think this will work? Let’s try one right now.
I have a weird relationship with figs. Fresh figs, specifically. I want to love them, but they don’t want to love me. Whenever I go to a friend’s house or a restaurant and eat fresh figs, they are sweet, luscious, and bursting with flavor. But whenever I buy fresh figs, they taste like literal nothing.
It doesn’t matter if figs are in season or if they are ripe or if the sun has set in the seventh house of the fig constellation, every single fig I’ve ever bought has been sad and flavorless. What gives?
This is a particularly bitter (or perhaps bland) pill to swallow when one looks at the expensive cost of fresh figs. I paid how much for that basket of nothing flavored nothings? I’m making myself mad just writing this.
And yet every year I inevitably go back to the proverbial fig well, hoping that this time, I’ll find the good figs that seemingly every one else has been able to acquire so easily.
Welp, it finally happened. I found good figs! Hallelujah. The fig gods blessed me with a basket of sweet, delicious figs from the farmer’s market, and I couldn’t have been more thrilled. Now I just needed to figure (or fig-gure) out what to do with them.
I discovered quickly that nearly all the fresh fig recipes in my cookbooks were for cakes and pies. That was cool and all, but I didn’t want to bake my beautiful purple jewels. I wanted to celebrate my figs in their freshest, rawest state.
Then I vaguely remembered some sort of Ina Garten dish that involved homemade ricotta topped with fresh figs. I had made it maybe eight or nine years ago, and it was promising, but ultimately the whole thing fell apart thanks to — you guessed it — crap figs.
It was tempting to revisit this recipe now that I finally had Barefoot Contessa-worthy figs, but I didn’t really feel like making fresh ricotta (even though I remember it being delicious). On the other hand, I did like the idea of figs resting on some sort of fluffy dairy cloud. There was cream cheese in the fridge - why not start there?
As I reached for the bar of Philadelphia, I immediately considered Alison Roman’s creamy sesame turmeric dip. It’s probably my favorite dip - I often refer to it as “THE dip” - if only because it marries cream cheese and tahini so intoxicatingly.
“What if,” I asked myself, “I did a freeform version of THE dip and topped it with figs?”
I did, and it was fabulous. So fabulous I made it about five times over.
Here’s what I did.
First I put a large chunk of cream cheese in a food processor (I’d say about two finger-widths, sliced from a brick of cream cheese). Next I added a splash of almond milk, salt and pepper, and one or two spoons’ worth of tahini. I blended it until it was smooth, adding water a teaspoon at a time until the whole thing was fluffy and whipped. Of course, I checked for seasoning, adding a little more salt to taste until the “blah” of unseasoned tahini disappeared. You’ll know.
If it was too loose or not tangy enough, I added more cream cheese.
In lieu of almond milk, use regular milk or the milk of your choice.
Next I spooned the whipped cream cheese onto a thick slice of crusty sourdough. Depending on how much liquid you’ve added to your food processor, the cream cheese may be more runny than fluffy, and I can assure that it’s totally fine.
The first time I made this dish I didn’t toast the bread since it was super fresh and had natural, crackly edges. Unless that’s the case, you’ll want to toast your bread to get some crisp texture to contrast with all the creaminess.
Slice up one fig into quarters or eighths. Whichever you prefer. Place the fig segments, skin side down, in the whipped cream cheese.
Drizzle with honey (just to make sure the figs’ sweetness doesn’t get overshadowed by the other components). Cut the toast in half cross-wise and enjoy!
The result is a beautiful, luxurious tartine full of wonderful contrasts, despite the simplicity of its ingredients. There is the sweetness of the figs and honey complemented by nutty tahini and tangy cream cheese. Then there’s the crisp bread abutting the soft, pillowy topping. Each bite is a treat and a delight.
No surprise that I ate this toast all week long. It made for a dainty brunch, a charming lunch, and a sophisticated afternoon snack. What I’m trying to say is: there was never a bad time for this dish.
Fun fact: one day I thought I might save time by simply schmearing cream cheese onto the toast and drizzling with tahini before adding the figs. This was actually totally fine, but I did miss the whipped texture of using a food processor.
Sadly, fig season is criminally short, which means the window to make this toast may have already passed. I suspect fresh dates are the next best thing, and failing those, dried figs might work nicely or maybe even prunes.
Also, don’t skip the tahini. Fresh figs on cream cheese is of course divine, but if that’s all this was, I wouldn’t be writing about it. The tahini gives a depth of flavor here that’s really special.
What are some fun ways you like to use fresh figs? Pies? Jams? Salads? Any savory recommendations?
When I lived in Virginia I'd take the overripe figs from our tree and put it with leftover carnitas in a bowl or wrap. The carnitas would have pickled onions to cut through the fat and the over ripe figs would cut through the acid of the onions---it all made sense when you ate it. We'd only do it with leftovers, but I imagine that would work with some sort of acid-y meat dish