Memory, seduction, figs and sausages

The sense of taste is apparently the second strongest sense, right behind smell. For me, taste is stronger than any other sense. I bite into something and immediately remember. The taste transports me to a place, time, being with a person, anything and it is so vivid it's like I've just stepped out of a time machine. Until now, I've only experienced this with food that other people have made prior to my attempts, like Grandma. When I recreate one of her recipes, and I succeed, I feel like I'm standing in the kitchen with her, watching her and learning.

I sat down to a birthday celebration dinner this past weekend. We laughed, we shared memories, we had a great time. But part of our hors d'oeurves was a left-over from a previous meal Lauryn made. I had made this same dish once before. The part she served was a fig sauce made with cloves, red wine vinegar and a bit of lemon amongst other ingredients. This is to be served with sausage and over rice. I bit into a fig and just stopped dead, remembering the night I served this. There's a reason dates revolve around food. It's a shared joy and pleasure that is both vital and seductive.

But these figs. Goodness. It was like an absolute emotional maelstrom whizzed through me while i was trying to decipher the textures and flavors. The plump, chewy figs with the ever so delicate crunch of the seeds followed by a zing of acidity from the red wine vinegar, then the warm spice from cloves, nutmeg and cinnamon. This is such a complex flavor personality that it makes you stop and think about it. The sweet, the savory, the tart, the seductive flavors. There's no wolfing down of this dish. It's meant to be savored and studied. It's the type of sensual explosion that requires giving yourself over to every single sensation. Truly an amazing dish and worth every minute of prep time. Since you take the time to savor each bite, you pay a different kind of attention to your surroundings. As a result, when these same sensations are triggered, it all comes flooding back.

You know those movie montages that are snap shots like seeing life flash before your eyes? I had that.

The recipe comes from "Intercourses," by Martha Hopkins and Randall Lockridge, which is a cookbook filled with a delicious how-to instructional of seduction via food. But keep in mind, the sauce must be made a day ahead. Prepare accordingly. And remember, this isn't to inconvenience you. It's to get your imagination going. Anticipation is one of the greatest factors of food and romance.

For the fig sauce:
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup red wine vinegar
1/2 stick cinnamon
2 cloves
1 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1/2 slice lemon
1 pound fresh or canned figs, drained

For the fig sauce, combine the sugar, vinegar, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg and lemon in a saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat and simmer for 5 minutes. Add the figs. Cook for 15 minutes, or until the syrup has reduced and thickened slightly. Cool the syrup overnight in the fridge.

For the sausages:
3/4 pound spicy Italian sausage links
2 teaspoons olive oil
3 tablespoons white wine
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

For the sausages, set a large skillet over medium to medium-high heat and add the oil. Add the sausages to the hot oil to brown. (I found it more efficient to slice the sausage into medallions or at least smaller pieces to cook) Pour in the wine, scraping the bottom of the pan to release any browned bits. (Cripsy bits!) Reduce the heat to medium-low, cover and cook until the sausages are cooked through and the wine has evaporated. (If the sausages are starting to burn, add 1/2 to 1 cup of water and cook until all the water has evaporated.) Add the figs and their syrup to warm through. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve the sausages with the whole figs and spoon with the fig syrup.

Try it. The anticipation of making this, the anticipation of the reaction of the person you're feeding it to...just try it. You won't be disappointed. Perfect for Valentine's Day? I think so, yes.