How To Wash Fig Fruit

Here in sunny San Diego, usually right around late summer, the air gets heavy with a scent that drives me absolutely wild—it’s the smell of ripening sugar and earthy green leaves. It’s harvest time in the orchard. If you’ve ever walked through a grove of Ficus carica—that’s the scientific name for the common fig—you know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s a sweet, musk-heavy aroma that promises one of nature’s greatest treats. But here is the kicker: as delicious as these gems are, getting them from the tree to your mouth involves a crucial, often misunderstood step. I’m talking about cleaning them.

Alexander Mitchell

You might think, "Hey, it’s just fruit, run it under the tap, right?" Wrong. Treat a ripe Black Mission or a delicate Kadota like an apple, and you’ll end up with a mushy, waterlogged mess.

I spend my days tending to these trees under the California sun, battling the marine layer and the local wildlife to bring these exotic beauties to the table. I’ve learned a thing or two about handling them. So, grab a coffee (or a glass of sweet tea), and let’s chat about the art of washing what the locals here often call higos (thanks to our proximity to the border) or what my friends from overseas might call anjeer.

Understanding the Anatomy of the “Fruit”

Before we even turn on the faucet, we need to get on the same page about what this thing actually is. Technically, it isn’t a fruit in the botanical sense. It’s a syconium. Picture a flower that decided to bloom inwardly rather than opening up to the world. Inside that teardrop-shaped skin are hundreds of tiny flowers that have turned into those crunchy seeds we love.

Why does this matter for washing? Because of the ostiole.

The ostiole is that tiny little eye or hole at the bottom of the fig. It is essentially an open door to the center of the fruit. If you dunk a fig in a bowl of water, that little eye acts like a straw, sucking liquid right into the cavity. The result? The flavor gets diluted, the texture turns into sludge, and you accelerate the molding process significantly.

Furthermore, the skin of varieties like the Brown Turkey or the Tiger Stripe (often called Panache) is incredibly porous and thin. It’s not like the waxy armor of a lemon or the tough hide of an avocado. It absorbs everything.

Have you ever picked a fig and felt that sticky white substance ooze out of the stem? That’s latex, or fig sap. It’s a natural irritant. I’ve had days where my arms look like I wrestled a cactus because of that sap. Washing isn’t just about dirt; it’s about neutralizing that sap so your lips don’t itch when you take a bite.

To Wash or Not to Wash: The Timing Dilemma

I cannot stress this enough: do not wash your harvest until you are ready to eat it.

If there is one golden rule in my orchard, it is this. Moisture is the enemy of the fresh Ficus carica. These fruits have a high sugar content (high brix), and when you add water to the surface and let it sit, you are essentially rolling out the red carpet for mold and bacteria. A dry fig in the fridge can last a few days; a wet one turns to mush overnight.

Emily Rodriguez

I remember one season, I had a beautiful crate of Brebas (that’s the first crop of the season that grows on the previous year's wood). I wanted to be proactive, so I washed the whole batch, dried them with paper towels, and put them in the cooler. The next morning, half of them had fuzzy gray spots. It was heartbreaking.

Here is a quick breakdown of why waiting matters:

• Mold Prevention: Fungal spores love moisture and sugar.

• Texture Preservation: Water absorption breaks down cell walls.

• Flavor Integrity: You want to taste the honey-jam notes, not tap water.

The Gentle Art of Cleansing

Okay, so you are ready to eat. You’ve got a bowl of beautiful higos sitting on the counter. How do we get the dust, the stray ants, and the residual sap off without ruining the experience?

I treat my figs like they are made of spun glass. You have to be gentle. Over the years, I’ve refined a method that works for everything from the hardy Black Mission to the super-delicate Adriatic.

The Step-by-Step Protocol

1. The Inspection: Before water touches anything, look at the fruit. Is the eye open or closed? If the eye is wide open, you need to be extra careful not to get water inside. Check for any mold or cracks. If it smells sour, toss it.

2. The Stem Trim: I always use a sharp paring knife to snip the stem off before washing. This removes the primary source of that sticky latex sap. If sap oozes out, wipe it away immediately with a dry cloth.

3. The Cold Rinse: Never soak. I repeat, never soak. Hold the fruit by the stem end (or where the stem was) and gently rotate it under a stream of cold, low-pressure water. Use your thumb to very lightly rub the skin if there is visible dirt.

4. The Pat Down: Immediately transfer the fruit to a clean kitchen towel or a thick layer of paper towels. Gently roll them to remove excess moisture. Do not squeeze.

It really is that simple, yet so many people overcomplicate it with vinegar baths or soap. Please, never use soap. The porous skin will hold onto that soapy flavor, and nothing ruins a cheese plate faster than a fig that tastes like dish detergent.

Table 1: Cleaning Method Comparison

Dealing with the Unwanted Guests

Let’s address the elephant in the room—or rather, the bug in the fruit. Living in San Diego, growing organically means dealing with nature. Ants love these fruits just as much as we do.

Sometimes, you’ll pick a ripe one and see a few ants scurrying around the eye. Don’t panic. This is natural.

If I suspect there might be an ant inside the ostiole, I will perform a “flush.” I turn the water pressure up slightly and aim it quickly at the eye for just a split second, then immediately turn the fruit upside down (eye facing down) and give it a gentle shake. Usually, gravity and the water flush out any intruders.

However, there is a misconception about wasps. You may have heard that every fig has a dead wasp inside. While the cleaning symbiosis between the Fig Wasp (Blastophaga psenes) and the plant is real, the commercial varieties we grow here in California—like the Mission and Brown Turkey—are largely “parthenocarpic.”

What does that mean? It means they fruit without pollination. No wasp required. So, you can rest easy knowing you aren’t crunching down on insects in your backyard harvest.

Storing Your Cleaned Treasure

Once they are washed, the clock is ticking. You have to eat them or cook them. If I’m preparing a salad, I wash them, slice them, and plate them immediately.

If you have washed them and suddenly your plans change, you can try to salvage them by freezing.

• Flash Freezing: Place the washed and fully dried (very important!) fruits on a baking sheet, not touching each other.

• Freeze: Put the sheet in the freezer for 4 hours.

• Bagging: Once they are rock hard, transfer them to a vacuum-seal bag.

This captures the flavor, although the texture will change. Frozen figs are excellent for smoothies or jams, even if they aren’t great for fresh eating.

Table 2: Common Varieties and Handling Tips

Why This Matters

You might wonder why I’m writing over a thousand words on washing a piece of fruit. It’s because in our culture of fast food and pre-packaged convenience, we’ve lost touch with the nuance of handling real food.

When you grow something from a cutting, watch it leaf out in the spring, protect it from the June gloom, and finally harvest it in the heat of September, you develop a respect for it. You don’t want to ruin six months of work in six seconds of careless washing.

I’ve seen people scrub these delicate skins with vegetable brushes, tearing them open and losing all that precious nectar. It’s a tragedy. The skin is edible; in fact, it contains a lot of the nutrients and color compounds (anthocyanins) that are good for you. We want to clean it, not flay it.

Final Thoughts from the Grove

Next time you are at the farmers market here in San Diego, or maybe spotting a carton of fresh Ficus at the grocery store, pick them up. Look for the ones that are slightly soft, maybe a little droopy at the stem—that’s where the sugar is.

Take them home, but leave them in the fridge until the moment you’re ready to indulge. Then, remember the protocol: Trim, Rinse (don’t soak), Pat Dry.

It’s a simple ritual, but it makes all the difference. There is nothing quite like standing in the kitchen, biting into a perfectly clean, cool, sweet fig that tastes like berry jam and honey. It’s the taste of sunshine and hard work.

So, go ahead and enjoy the harvest. Just keep the soap away from my anjeer, alright?