Yesterday, our journey began in a lush garden where a fig tree towered alongside houses. After departing for Rome’s Termini station, we noticed adventurous little figs bravely sprouting between the railway tracks. The fig tree—descended from the wild caprifig of ancient Anatolia—has roots stretching back to Caria (hence the scientific name carica) and spread all along the Mediterranean coast. Evidence points to fig cultivation as far back as 4000 to 2700 BC in Egypt and the Levant. In the tombs of ancient Egyptians, known as mastabas, figs are frequently depicted on murals, a visual promise of fruits for the afterlife.
Egyptologist Noha Hany Gerges Salama’s research describes a wealth of figs in visual art, including a beautiful painting in the fifth-dynasty tomb of Iymery at Giza showing boys perched among fig branches, gathering fruit as attendants below fill baskets with what falls. One particularly vivid image depicts two men sharing a plate of outsized figs. As Salama documents, fresh and dried figs were dietary staples in Ancient Egypt, not just for their flavor and sweetness, but also as ingredients: fig leaves and sap doubled as natural rennet for cheese and could kickstart wine fermentation.
Figs come in countless varieties, but all fall into two main types: some self-pollinate, while others require the help of minuscule fig wasps. Structurally, what we consider a ‘fig’ is actually a cluster of over a thousand tiny flowers—each one growing into a seed. Figs shine brightest when they’re almost over-ripe, their sugars and flavors concentrated into a luscious mix between honey and jam—irresistible to both wasps and bakers alike. This week, those overripe beauties are the star of our recipe.
Our tart is a twist on the Roman-Jewish classic crostata di ricotta e visciole (ricotta and sour cherry tart)—here, fragrant figs and orange take the spotlight, and a hint of orange zest and ground almond enriches the pastry. Remember: pastry likes a brisk pace and cool hands, and don’t be tempted to skip chilled dough or a hot tray, which guarantee a crisp, golden base. If fresh figs are elusive, a good fig jam is a superb substitute.
This tart is delicious warm from the oven, but resting it allows the creamy ricotta and sweet fig layers to firm up, resulting in neat slices. Just like its cherry cousin, it’s ideal at room temperature—or straight from the fridge for an indulgent breakfast.
Fig, ricotta and orange tart
Serves 8–10
150g cold butter, cubed
250g plain flour, plus more for dusting
50g ground almonds
Pinch of salt
60g icing sugar
2 medium eggs, lightly beaten, plus extra for glazing
1 unwaxed orange—2 strips zest, remainder finely grated, plus 2 tbsp juice
400g fresh figs, diced, or 300g fig jam
175g caster sugar
500g ricotta
1 egg
Start by working the butter into the flour and ground almonds until you have a mixture resembling breadcrumbs. Stir in the salt, icing sugar, grated zest of orange, and eggs; combine to form a soft dough. Wrap and chill for at least an hour.
In a small pan, cook the chopped figs with the 2 strips of orange zest, orange juice, and 100g of caster sugar. Bring to a gentle boil, reduce heat, and simmer 5–7 minutes until tender and just starting to break down.
Lightly dust your work surface with flour and roll out two-thirds of the chilled pastry to a round slightly larger than a 24cm tart tin. Use your rolling pin to lift and lay the pastry into the tin, pressing gently into the corners; trim any excess.
Add the compote-like figs to the pastry shell. Blend ricotta with 1 egg and the remaining 75g sugar until smooth, and gently spoon this mixture over the fig base. Roll out the last of the pastry, cut into strips, and create a lattice pattern on top. Brush with beaten egg.
Bake on a hot baking sheet in the center of an oven preheated to 180C (160C fan)/350F/gas 4 for 45 minutes—until the pastry is golden and the ricotta slightly puffed. Allow to cool before slicing, and enjoy!
