"The fig bushes in my parent's back yard were twiggy things when they built the house in 1992. Today they tower 15 feet tall, a wall of green and velvety purple behind the porch. They harvest and toil at making the preserves every summer, boiling the glass jars and straining the seeds from the figs to create a whiskey-colored syrupy mash, the crown jewel of a cathead biscuit." - Erin
