Posts filed under ‘Pies/Tarts’
As my friends’ schedules become increasingly hectic and I continue to get by without a car, recently I’ve been taking the bus more and more.
For a long time, I resented it. There is not a lot to love about public transportation.
I’ve spent too many afternoons running behind a just-missed bus or waiting listlessly for an hour, so I’ve become overly cautious and give myself too much time. I rush out of school in that awkward state between walking and running, my backpack heavy against my shoulders, moving quickly to get to the stop. I stare at the stretch of road, trying to see the green roof of the bus emerge from around the bend, and I hate feeling as though the bus will never come.
Most of all, I hate the weary ride itself. It’s an hour long ride to my house, even though it’s a 15 minute trip by car, and the hour never passes quickly. My bus has sticky seats, a dirty floor, the smell of too many people come and gone and a lurching, roundabout movement that leaves me grouchy.
But the good news is that I’ve found an escape. I tuck my ipod into the pocket of my backpack every morning, and as the bus lumbers towards me I untangle the headphones. I’m almost always tired, so I choose something easygoing and simple, with strings or a soft-spoken correspondent on NPR.
I have the sort of headphones that eliminate your sense of sound. If you put them on without music, the world becomes shockingly silent, the kind of silence that makes you forget what noise was. I no longer hear the man snapping baby carrots between his teeth in the seat behind me, or the obnoxious beat pumping from the row ahead.
Instead it’s like I’m underwater, submerged into a place of only warm drafts and light reflecting against chrome. Everything is nothing, and suddenly I can feel all my other senses so much more acutely – dramatic, but true! I always marvel for a minute at the effect, and then I turn towards the window and turn on a song. Then, for an hour, the world is nothing but the blooming trees slipping past my eyes and the subtle reflection of my face in the glass.
I listen to music a few hours every day, and for the longest time I tried to make music compatible with baking. But it takes a lot of focus to hear my songs while the mixer is whirring loudly or while water splutters against silverware in the sink. I’ve tried turning on a radio instead, but the sound is washed out every other minute if I need to use the food processor or whip some cream.
I regretfully concluded that the two weren’t compatible after all. So I’ve started working silently, without any other noise at all. I’ve found that the kitchen makes music of its own.
The rhythmic churn of the KitchenAid, the crackle and pop of lighting the stove, the clinks and rolling as I open and shut the aged drawers one after the other. There’s the dingdingding of the timer and the satisfying, gradual pop! of a new jar finally opened. I love the quiet raking noises of zesting a tangerine, the insubstantial thud of a flipped-over cup of flour, and the low, sticky bubble of cooking sugar.
When I look back, I always remember little details about the baking process. Take this tangerine meringue tart… If I close my eyes and try to bring myself there again, I remember the sandy texture of the tart dough coming together between my fingertips and the silkiness of curd on my spoon. I remember the vivid orange of spilled tangerine juice on the old white counter and the smell of cocoa powder.
And more than anything, I remember the distinct sounds of each component coming together, using every instrument in my kitchen to create something beautiful. Chocolate crust, tangerine curd, marshmallowy meringue… it’s like a symphony in three acts.
I think it might be my favorite song.
It’s nearly July.
You’ve got it in your head that you want to remodel your front yard. You’re going to pull out all the old grass, taking the moss and weeds with it, and replant new seeds. You’re going to transfer your herb garden, plant lots of beautiful flowers, and create a fence with espalier fruit trees – apple, pear, and asian pear. You might even ask your teenage daughter to help once in a while.
And generally, it’s hard work. Hard, hot work. You can drink all the water you want, but what would really cool you off?
I know some of you guys were intrigued by the jelly that I put up earlier this week. There were a lot of great guesses, and some of them got pretty close but nobody got it quite right. It turns out, this little jar is much more than a delicious batch of lime and mint jelly. It’s part of this month’s Daring Bakers challenge!
The June Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Jasmine of Confessions of a Cardamom Addict and Annemarie of Ambrosia and Nectar. They chose a Traditional (UK) Bakewell Tart… er… pudding that was inspired by a rich baking history dating back to the 1800′s in England.
The Bakewell Tart is a tart crust spread with jam, jelly, curd, or even chocolate, and then topped with moist, spongy almond frangipane. For the challenge we were asked to make the crust and frangipane as instructed, but we had freedom over the jelly.
I’d never made jelly by myself before, so I knew that I definitely wanted to make that part of the challenge. I played with so many different flavors in my head before finally settling on lime and mint. It’s a slightly unusual combination for a jelly, and it sounded so utterly different and refreshing that I knew it would make this pretty challenge even more special.
When I told my dad my flavor combination, he said, “Why not make mojitos to go along?” So he brought the mint, the limes, and the rum, and I headed next door to ask the neighbors for a bowl of ice. The result was a cool, fresh mojito. It turns out, I really like them. I think I could have probably had one or two all by myself. Luckily my parents and I shared two glasses among us and I was able to really focus on the tart as well. :)
I was a little unsure about how almond would pair with lime and mint, but the tart was super delicious. On its own, the jelly is fantastic. It’s tangy and bursting with flavor, and tastes so bright that everyone is a little surprised when they first try it. In the tart, the flavor was much more subdued. In hindsight, a jam like raspberry, pear, or peach would have probably better fit the tart, but the mojito jelly did add a lovely green stripe and interesting twist to an otherwise straightforward dessert.
The tart crust was a huge hit, especially with my dad. It’s officially my new go-to tart crust. And the frangipane? I’d never made it before, but I can’t get enough of it. I’d love to try making it with other nuts (pistachio or hazelnut, maybe?) and the jelly is definitely a recipe I’ll keep. Three components, three successes… what a challenge!
I wish I could travel more. Traveling is something I’ve barely done, and yet, it’s one of my favorite things. There’s so many things I love about it – mostly, I just love to experience something so totally different from what I’m used to. A different skyline, a different perspective and culture, a different lifestyle… and different food.
Food is one of the biggest highlights of my travels, limited as they might be. It’s as important as the monuments, the museums, the shopping. Bagels, pizza, and cheesecake in New York, the best bubble tea and bao bing in Houston’s Chinatown, french brioche toast and tea in Victoria, Canada. Oh, but Paris…
I was in 8th grade when I went to Paris with my French class – such an amazing trip. While I didn’t photograph any of our meals, I remember them vividly. Crêpes, bought right on the street and spread with nutella; fresh sandwiches made with beautiful, crackly baguettes; and a fresh, flaky croissant served with orange juice and chocolat chaud every morning for breakfast.
And Fauchon, the famous luxury bakery! My French teacher told a story of a boy one year who was left behind in Fauchon, so mesmerized by the pastries that he did not notice the group leave the patisserie and board the subway. Madame called it a nightmare. Me, I think it sounds like a dream come true!
I really wish I would have discovered my love for baking at that point in my life. At the time, I’d never heard of Fauchon, and while I left feeling full and impressed (I bought an excellent fig éclair at what I thought a ridiculous price), I didn’t fully appreciate the visit.
When I saw that April’s Sugar High Friday, hosted by Heather of Diary of a Fanatic Foodie, was to make a dessert inspired by travel (“Take Me Away”), memories of Paris came back to me with surprising strength. There were so many unbelievable desserts I tried. But what made me think utterly of Paris? And what was simple enough to make at home, right after school?
This lovely pear tart was the ticket. Back to Paris, I mean. :)