On the way to work every morning, I pass a particularly beautiful fig tree. While I admire it for the shape of the leaves and the fruit, and the fact that it often harbours at least one chirruping feathered creature, I suspect that my love stems from its role in the creation of one of my favourite biscuits. Yes, the fig roll. Plain but oddly satisfying. And not unique to Ireland or the UK. Oh no. Aficionados holidaying in France need feel no withdrawal symptoms, for the supermarket shelves there groan under the weight of the Figolu.
Which I guess is my way of saying that if I don't get my RSS feed sorted soon, I will have wolfed a whole packet. The shame of it ....
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