IN THE KITCHEN : Fleeting Fruits: Figs and White Peaches

The sun has gone down, the breeze has come up and a long day’s sweating is done. Here in Los Angeles, everyone says houses don’t have air conditioning “because there are only two or three weeks a year when you need it.”

That may be true, but during those two or three weeks, the only thing you can do is hide inside with all the blinds pulled, like a lizard under a rock, trying to calculate the exact pattern of opening and closing windows that will preserve whatever wisp of cool air flow you can find.

Then at about 4 or 5 in the afternoon, when it seems that you’ll never survive, the ocean breeze begins to cool things off. You throw open every door and window in the house and head outside, knowing that for the next several hours, that’s as close to salvation as you’ll get in this life.

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As horrid as those baking days are, the nights are just as sweet. I can think of no dining room more gorgeous than a patio or picnic bench on a late summer evening. The air is heavy with the smell of sun-baked flowers, the breeze is soft and cool. And there you sit, with friends, a couple of chilled bottles of rose and a grilled chicken or two. Relieved of the burden of oppressive heat, conversation flows and from the inside of the house floats the dimly heard ghost of Sarah Vaughan. September song, indeed.

We’ve had a couple of those weeks already, but just because it’s cool now, let’s not forget that it’s still early in the month. We’re not done yet.

If there is anything in late summer as swiftly fleeting as a cool evening, it must be the season’s fruits. You had better grab them while you can.

Every season has its treats and, I guess, it’s perfectly fitting that late summer is the time for white peaches and figs. They share an aromatic, spicy sweetness. And they vanish in a heartbeat.

White peaches are an especially transitory pleasure. While they were rare as emeralds only a couple of years ago, now they’re showing up more and more at markets--both farmers and otherwise.

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They’re a difficult fruit from a grocer’s perspective: at their best when picked ripe, but also at their most fragile. With a pale, creamy flesh that bruises at a hard look, these peaches show every jostle. In fact, if you’re serving them raw--always a good idea, especially the first time you try them--they’re best eaten on the day they’re bought. In storage, they turn into miniature gastronomic Dorian Grays, with every mistake in handling, no matter how trivial, turning into an ugly brown spot.

If they get too bad, don’t toss them. Cut away the bad parts and run what’s left through a food mill (no need to peel, the skin will stay behind) and add the puree to a decent sparkling wine. The perfect Bellini.

Ripe figs are just as fragile. The tarry black skin splits easily, spilling the luscious crimson center. There may be no fruit more sensuous than a raw ripe fig.

Figs are as curious as they are delicate. The fig is actually a swollen flower base, and one variety can only be pollinated by a miniscule wasp, which enters the fruit via a tiny hole in the bottom.

That may be of interest mostly to botanists and fruit growers, but figs pose practical problems for the cook. They contain an enzyme called ficin, which curdles milk. This property of figs is mentioned in Homer’s Iliad, and the Greeks added raw figs to milk to make cheese.

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Obviously, combining figs and any dairy product is something that must be done carefully. At one dinner several years ago, I planned to serve a semifreddo of figs and mascarpone. When I pureed the figs and cheese together with a little sugar, I thought it was one of the best things I’d ever tasted. But after freezing overnight, it was bitter as bile. The ficin had soured the milk. Of course, I didn’t find that out until everyone had tasted it . . .

Don’t let that stop you from trying this ice cream, though. The figs and peaches, their perfume enhanced by a bit of Amaretto, are heavenly when combined with cream. Just be sure to serve it on the day it is made. That’s when ice cream is best, anyway. And don’t worry about holding it for the next day, I doubt there’ll be any left.

WHITE PEACH AND FIG ICE CREAM

2 white peaches, peeled

4 fresh figs, stems removed, preferably Kadota (light green)

Sugar

1 tablespoon amaretto or almond-flavored liqueur

1 1/2 cups whipping cream

1 1/2 cups milk

Dash salt

Seed peaches and cube flesh, taking care not to bruise flesh. Coarsely chop figs. Combine in medium work bowl with 1 tablespoon sugar and amaretto. Cover with plastic wrap. Chill at least 1 hour.

In separate work bowl combine cream, milk, 1/2 cup sugar and salt. Stir to combine well. Cover with plastic wrap. Chill at least 1 hour.

Combine fruit and cream mixture in container of ice cream freezer and freeze according to manufacturer’s instructions. Makes 1 quart, or 8 servings.