Nancy Thompson can’t pinpoint the moment figs entered her life. Unlike the ubiquitous bananas and apples of childhood, figs arrived quietly, almost mysteriously. “I don’t remember having them as a kid,” she admits, but somewhere along the way, this unassuming fruit captured her completely. Today, she’s transformed into Virginia’s most devoted fig evangelist.
Her passion took root—literally—at the family cottage in Deltaville, where three fig trees now flourish in ways that seem magical. “They’re incredibly happy there,” she explains. “They love the humidity and the salt air coming in from the bay. And there must be something about the soil that helps them thrive.”
Three adult children are converts, too, plus an ever-growing brood of grandchildren. “When the figs are in season, we stand there and pick them right off the trees. Fig loves them too,” she says, referring to the family’s trusty yellow lab. Nancy’s prized trees produce “sugar figs”—the coveted Celeste variety renowned for their intensely sweet, honey-like flavor that seems to concentrate summer itself into each purple-skinned orb. During peak season—usually in late summer—she can harvest an impressive 6 pounds daily, a bounty that once seemed impossible before the trees shot skyward to 20 feet and spread nearly as wide.
At her Fishing Bay cottage, Nancy has embraced fig culture inside, too. She and her husband, Matt, added an annex to the original house, accessed through a connecting breezeway. The décor? Figs from floor to ceiling and a delightful assortment of fig-forward finds—from beach towels and books to fig-scented candles.
Now, the couple has mastered the art of fig diplomacy, both with their trees and the local wildlife. They keep the branches trimmed to manageable heights while maintaining a charming détente with neighborhood birds. “We pick the ones we can reach, and we leave the ones higher up for the birds to feast on. We have what you might call an understanding.”
Even in Richmond, Nancy couldn’t bear to be fig-less. She planted a Celeste in a container that keeps her company between Deltaville visits, ensuring her obsession never wanes.
From her abundant harvests, she crafts fig pizzas, chutneys, and jams, plus delicate bite-sized appetizers that disappear as quickly as they’re made. But perhaps most tellingly, she sets up a front yard table, complete with quart berry baskets and a “pick-your-own sign,” offering them free to anyone passing by. “They’re gone in minutes,” she says, a testament to both her generosity and the fruit’s irresistible appeal.
A nearly ripe fig on one of Nancy’s three trees
Fresh figs on the Thompson’s breakfast table. Photography by Adam Ewing
Nancy’s delectable fig and prosciutto pizza with just-picked figs and fresh arugula at the ready. Click here for the recipe.
Nancy’s fig fascination has even reshaped how she travels. “We work with a travel agent who curates trips where we can visit fig orchards and the farmers who own them.” Portugal, Spain, and France have already fallen on her fig-focused itinerary, and this fall brings Italy—naturally, with another fig farm visit locked in place. “It’s so lovely to meet these hard-working, passionate people who simply love what they do,” she reflects. “They live modestly but are so passionate about their farms.” Language barriers occasionally arise, but the universal language of agricultural passion usually transcends words.
As fig season winds down each year, Nancy is already planning ahead—mentally mapping next summer’s harvest, dreaming of new recipes, and perhaps adding another international fig farm to her travel wish list. What began as a quiet discovery has bloomed into a way of life that connects her to the land, her community, and fellow fig lovers across the globe. In a world that often moves too fast, Nancy has found her rhythm in the patient cycles of her beloved trees, proving that sometimes the sweetest obsessions are the ones that grow slowly, take root deeply, and bear fruit for everyone to share.
This article originally appeared in the October 2025 issue.
