Figgy DooLittle: From Albuquerque Aristocrat to Vegas Diva

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In the summer of 2024, we made our way to Albuquerque to visit our niece Gentry and her family. While there, Eric (Gentry’s husband and now officially our Favorite Relative Who Owns a Fig Tree) handed us a few fresh figs from his backyard.

We had never truly met a fig before that moment. I had encountered Fig Newtons, of course, but that’s like saying you’ve experienced Italy because you once had Chef Boyardee. These figs were a revelation. Soft. Sweet. Luxurious. Slightly smug.

Eric, generous horticultural benefactor that he is, gifted us a cutting from his tree. But not just any tree. This little twig came with a backstory worthy of a PBS documentary. Eric’s tree was started from a cutting from his mother’s tree, which came from a tree cultivated by Rosalie Doolittle, a well-known gardener, author, and television personality in the region. Beyond that? The trail goes cold. But it’s entirely possible that this fig’s lineage stretches all the way back to early Spanish missionaries in the Southwest. Unfortunately, since Rosalie passed away in 1995, verification is impossible. It makes for a good story, though, and to paraphrase Mark Twain, we never let a few facts get in the way of a good story.

Eric potted our cutting, and we carefully transported her back to Las Vegas like horticultural smugglers. We planted her in one of our raised planters and christened her Figgy DooLittle.

She leafed out! We rejoiced! We began making casual references to “our orchard.” Then winter arrived.

Figgy taking root

Figgy with new friends

Now, winter in Las Vegas is more of a suggestion than a season, but Figgy, being a deciduous tree with standards, turned bright yellow and dropped every single leaf. She stood there, a bare stick in a box, daring us to keep believing she'd be back when it warmed up.

Spring arrived, and instead of modestly growing a polite two or three feet as we had envisioned, Figgy exceeded all expectations. By September she had exploded nearly six feet upward, clearly misunderstanding the plan. She even produced a few dozen figs, which we bravely endured for quality control. Repeatedly. They were wonderful!

Figgy exceeded all expectations

By summer’s end, it was eminently clear: Figgy had outgrown her planter. The plan was to wait for dormancy, prune her back, and relocate her to a prime, sunny spot in the backyard.

We finally executed the big move last week — just in time. Our especially mild winter has trees budding already, including Ms. Figgy, who clearly has big seasonal plans. We pruned her significantly (she seemed more resigned than happy about the operation), wrestled up her impressively ambitious root system, and transplanted her to her permanent home.

At the moment, she looks a little forlorn. Slightly betrayed. Perhaps drafting a memoir. But we are optimistic.

A forlorn Figgy in her new digs

In the meantime, we’ve discovered figs are only half the story. The leaves are culinary celebrities in their own right. According to Albuquerque fig expert Lloyd Kreitzer, the ex-con, Martha Stewart, has declared wrapping salmon in fig leaves to be the finest preparation she’s discovered.

Seri adds that "Cooking salmon in fig leaves keeps the fish incredibly moist and imparts a subtle coconut-vanilla aroma. The leaves act as a fragrant wrapper, protecting the fish while it bakes or grills".

Coconut-vanilla salmon? I’m salivating already.

We’ll have to wait until next summer when Figgy’s leaves return before we can test this theory. Until then, she’s settling into her new backyard estate, showing a definite flair for the dramatic.

Stay tuned. If all goes well, next summer’s harvest will include figs - and probably even fewer verified facts.