Visual Bornholm
Published by Visual Media ApS
Designed by Miru Studio
TEXT: MADS WESTERMANN PHOTO: ANDERS BEIER
On a warm summer evening in Gudhjem, the granite walls surrounding the small gardens still retain the day’s warmth. The sun has been baking on the stone walls all day, and now the southern temperatures are radiating. There is a strange scent in the air. Sweet, fruity, with a hint of vanilla and coconut.
Beyond a stone wall hang branches with large, lobed leaves that hide yellow-green, soft fruits filled with juicy, strawberry-red flesh. These are Bornholm figs.
Figs on Bornholm look as if someone has cut a piece out of the Amalfi Coast and placed it in
Gudhjem. But it is good enough. Bornholm has a very special microclimate that allows fruit trees from the Mediterranean to thrive here. The Baltic Sea and the granite act as a gigantic hot water bottle that stores the summer’s heat until well into winter. The granite absorbs the sun’s rays during the day and slowly releases the heat at night. This combination gives Bornholm’s south-facing coastal towns a milder climate than the rest of Denmark, and that’s exactly what a fig tree needs.
No one remembers the story of how the fig trees came to Bornholm anymore. All that is known is that it was Bornholm sailors who brought them home in the early 1800s. When their ships docked in the ports of the Mediterranean, they saw the fig trees standing in the heat and thought they might be fun to have at home in the small, warm garden behind the wall in Gudhjem.
They took a cutting, wrapped it in damp cloths and hid it in their bunk sack until they got home to Bornholm. A plant from the Mediterranean, transported across the sea under a sailor’s bunk. That should be impossible. Mediterranean plants should die of fright in a Bornholm November storm. But the granite and the Baltic Sea accepted.
The term ‘Bornholm fig’ is a good myth, but the truth is more prosaic. Almost all fig trees on Bornholm are genetically identical to the fig variety *Precoce de Dalmatie*, which originated in Dalmatia in what is now Croatia.
This particular variety is hardy, sets fruit early and is completely indifferent to sex. Most fig varieties need a special little gall wasp to set fruit. That wasp is not found in Denmark, so if the sailors had brought another fig variety home, there would have been beautiful leaves but no fruit. Fortunately, *Precoce de Dalmatie* can set fruit without any help. It pollinates itself, and that is the reason why there are figs hanging on the trees in Gudhjem, Svaneke and along the other south-facing coastal towns on the island.
The trees have spread from garden to garden for over two hundred years. Some of the oldest ones are in Gudhjem and Melsted, where the trunks are as thick as a forearm and the branches reach over the stone walls.
Others have come about as cuttings, cut by a neighbor and stuck into the ground by a south wall. In this way, the fig tree is a living connection between generations of Bornholm residents.
The figs ripen late. It is not until August that they begin to change color from green to yellow-green, and in September they hang heavy on the branches. The skin gives way to a light pressure, and inside lies the flesh, deep red and honey-sweet. The scent is intense and warm, like a mixture of strawberries and caramel.
Eaten straight from the tree, warmed by the sun, the Bornholm fig is a completely different experience than the imported fruits from the supermarket. The juice runs, the flesh is soft and almost liquid, and the flavor has a depth that only comes from ripening slowly in the Nordic light.
Figs have greater gastronomic potential than most people realize. At Bornholm’s
Michelin restaurant Kadeau, the chefs discovered that fig leaves can do something unexpected. Fig leaves don’t smell like figs. They smell like coconut and vanilla. Something tropical that shouldn’t be found on an island in the Baltic Sea.
Kadeau makes fig leaf oil. A neon green elixir made from very young, bright fig shoots mixed with grape seed oil. A few drops over vanilla ice cream, cold cuts or a piece of steamed cod, and the dish takes on a dimension that is hard to place. It tastes Nordic and tropical at the same time.
Fig leaves are not just an ingredient in a Michelin-starred kitchen. You can also make tea from the young leaves, and some of the Bornholm farm shops sell dried fig leaves for this purpose. The taste is mild, slightly sweet and with the same coconut note that makes the oil so special. Brewed on fresh leaves on a late summer evening, it is almost too exotic to be native to Bornholm.
The fig tree is not just a Bornholm curiosity. It can also be moved and take root elsewhere. With the right location and a little benevolent resistance, *Precoce de Dalmatie* thrives in most of Denmark. What it takes, and how to get your own fig tree to bear fruit, can be read at visualbornholm.dk – along with recipes for fig leaf oil
The *Precoce de Dalmatie* fig tree thrives in most of Denmark when it gets the right location and a little benevolent resistance. Here is a guide to getting your own tree to bear fruit – and two recipes that show what fig leaves and ripe figs can do.
Find the sunniest spot in the garden. A south-facing wall is ideal – the granite or bricks store heat and protect against wind. Plant the tree close to the wall so that it benefits from the reflected heat.
Fig trees reward resistance with abundance. If the tree is doing too well, it will only put out lots of large, green leaves. If it is stressed, on the other hand, it will reward itself with branches that are overflowing with fruit.
The trick is to limit the roots. On rich soil, you can imprison the roots in a bottomless bucket or a concrete pipe buried in the ground and drain with gravel. On sandy soil, a little compost is enough to retain moisture. When the roots reach resistance, fruiting begins.
In winter, the tree can be protected with straw or non-woven fabric during the hardest frost periods. *Precoce de Dalmatie* is hardy, but young trees can be damaged by prolonged frosts below minus ten degrees.
Kadeau in Gudhjem discovered that fig leaves smell of coconut and vanilla – not figs. That knowledge can be translated into a simple, neon green oil with an unusual aroma.
Ingredients:
50 g of very young, light-colored fig shoots
3 dl grape seed oil
Method:
Put fig shoots and oil in a blender. Let it run for 7-8 minutes, until the friction heats the mixture to about 60 degrees. Strain through a cloth and pour the oil into a dark bottle.
Serving:
Drip a few drops over vanilla ice cream, cold soup or Greek yogurt. Or use it on a piece of steamed cod or fried scallops. The oil will keep in the refrigerator for a couple of weeks.
Ripe figs from the tree, caramelized in the oven and served with sharp cheese and fresh lime. A Bornholm late summer dessert.
Ingredients:
8-10 ripe figs
2 tablespoons sugar
1 organic lime
St. Clemens blue cheese or crème chantilly
Directions:
Split the fruit and place them in an ovenproof dish with the cut side up. Sprinkle with sugar. Bake in a 190 degree oven until the sugar bubbles and turns into golden caramel that seeps into the fruit pulp. Remove the dish, let the figs cool slightly, and grate the zest of an organic lime over them.
Serve with a piece of St. Clemens blue cheese or a generous spoonful of crème chantilly
