In the heat of a Greek summer, “to get to the sea,” recalls Yves, “you had to walk through a natural orchard of wild fig trees.” Returning from Paris, Desmond brought back a few leaves of these trees in a little box. Years later, the leaves had lost none of their fragrance. Philosykos, which in Greek means “friend of the fig tree,” is an ode to the entire tree: the green, pungent freshness of the leaves, the wood warmed in the sun, the milky flavor of the fruit.
