To Tart, or Not to Tart...That is the Question

I love the warm, casual hopefulness of a Saturday morning when you get up reasonably early, but certainly not as early as you would during the workweek.  Strolling down the stairs with cats or dogs (as the case may be) excitedly weaving in and out between your legs, threatening death and dismemberment should you not go immediately to their food bowl and fill it full of delicious, if not fishy tasting food. 

I look out the window and can already tell the day going to be beautiful.  It’s the last day of July and has decided to cool off ever so slightly overnight to a perfect 70 degrees. A light breeze blows through the butterfly bushes and red oak tree branches, and the possibilities for a day such as this are endless. 

So I flip on the coffee maker and start to think.  As the machine starts to chug and percolate producing the morning time fragrance I so desperately crave my brain begins to work.  With each gurgle the coffee machine makes, the little mouse in my head jumps on the wheel and starts a revolution.  Luckily, the only thoughts being produced are the one’s enticing me to take the coffee and go sit in the garden.

I’ve been threatening to sit in the garden almost every night this past week.  With the slightly cooler weather and the absence of jungle-like humidity, sitting in my sanctuary under the light of a full moon seems absolutely idyllic.  Unfortunately, other than a quick peek or two and an occasional floral scent wafting in the kitchen window my dream has gone unfulfilled.  Today it shall be rectified.

I like to come out with the morning sun still angled reasonably sharp and take stock of how the garden has done over the past week.  I’m not doing any major farming here, though I wouldn’t mind doing so (at least in the fantasy farm in my head all seems naturally beautiful and effortless).  The flowers are continuing to bloom with very little help from me aside from the occasional watering.  When I started this cottage garden three years ago my hope was that it would sustain itself eventually and it seems to be working with the help of an army of bees and butterflies.  It may look a little overgrown and schizophrenic from time to time, but so am I and it works.

I often use my camera to really examine what’s going on out back.  I have that insufferable instinct to capture everything that’s going on around me and fear if I don’t it will have gone unnoticed and be gone forever.  I understand that nature is ephemeral and not supposed to last…it’s part of the “charm” of living, but having a camera at the ready at all times has given me a tiny measure of control (or pretend control) which allows me to capture at least enough moments to file the day away for a nice memory somewhere down the road.

The best moments in the garden, or anywhere for that matter, are usually the ones you don’t capture.  The unexpected moments of joy are truly special.  If you are lucky, occasionally you might capture that moment on film, but it’s the times you are forced to hang onto an experience only in your mind and imagination that become the stuff of legend.  Questing for these moments is a deeply engrained human trait.  We are seekers of pleasure, I believe, at all times.  We are the proverbial mouse trying to get the cheese in one form or other.  Happily I’ll just take the cheese that is, well, cheese…it is one of my favorite things to eat.

Before I wander too far off topic, though I suppose I haven’t really gotten there quite yet, I need to come back to all the possibilities of Saturday morning.  The best are the weekends when maybe you have a few plans like a brunch with friends (as we are with Andrea, Nathan and Finn in Irvington) or maybe a visit with our new “niece” Mia over at Izabella and Jonathan’s, but the rest of the weekend is open to possibility and interpretation.

Saturday morning is when the baking fantasies begin.  What will I make this week?  How does it work with the season or things going on around me?  Is the dessert appropriate for an event, a get-together or something simple to offer as a casual treat to friends or co-workers?  Sometimes I find things a little more in advance of Saturday morning.  If I’m really on the ball and it’s a pastry with multiple steps I might even get going on a Friday night if Brian is in rehearsal and I can pull myself away from my Playstation 3, but most times I just wait fro the coffee to start working it’s magic, getting those brain cells pumping and see what might “tickle my fancy”. 

This week I admit to a tiny bit of predetermination, though I was still waffling before the coffee kicked in to confirm the final decision.  I’d been eyeing both a lovely Nectarine Tart from Martha and a decadent looking mixed berry galette made by the Barefoot Contessa.  Both would be very appropriate for summer, but the nectarine tart seems to be winning out for a couple of reasons:  1) I have already done a couple of berry desserts recently.  2) I haven’t done anything with nectarines on the blog.  3) The nectarines are thinly sliced and formed into the delicate shapes of “roses” which are currently in between bloom in my garden.  I do love roses and miss them when they aren’t around, so why not make some out of juicy, luscious fruit?  This is another recipe I took out of Martha Stewart’s Baking Handbook…and is slightly rewritten here in my “relaxed” way.

In this case you start by making the tart shell.  It isn’t a traditional pate brisee that is used in many tarts, but more of a sucree or sweeter dough.  This is also a dough put together in a mixer, which is a little less traditional when it comes to pie and tart shells.  Combine 6 tablespoons of room temperature butter and 1/2 cup of confectioner’s sugar in the bowl of an electric mixer.  Mix on low for a couple of minutes then add 2 large egg yolks and mix for another minute more.  Next, add in 3/4 cup flour and mix until it’s incorporated.  Finally add in 1/4 teaspoon of salt, another 3/4 cup of flour and 2 teaspoons of cream.  The dough will be a lovely golden yellow color.  Form it into a flat disk, cover in plastic wrap and place in the fridge for at least a couple of hours.

When you are ready to bake pull the dough out of the fridge, lightly flour your counter or board and roll it out into a 12 inch round that is about 1/4 inch thick.  Carefully lay and shape the dough in a 9 inch fluted tart/pie pan with a removable bottom.  Trim the excess dough for a nice clean edge then put it in your freezer for about half an hour to let it rest once more.  Sometimes doughs are a little temperamental and need relaxing moments in between rolling and baking.

Pull the dough out of the freezer and dock (pierce the bottom of the crust all over with a fork) and line with parchment paper.  Fill the paper with pie weights or beans and bake at 375 degrees for 15 to 20 minutes…until the edges start to turn golden, then remove the pie weights and bake another 10 minutes or so to finish setting the crust.  Let it cool completely.  Now you are ready for the floral looking filling.

I’m not going to lie about this part, it was slightly difficult and you need to be patient with yourself.  The filling is easy, but it’s the rose shaped nectarines, which are a little challenging at the start.  For the filling melt 3 tablespoons of butter in a small saucepan over medium heat…whisk occasionally for 3-5 minutes, effectively “browning” the butter.  Set aside.

In another small bowl, whisk together one egg, a 1/4 cup of sugar, 2 teaspoons of lemon juice, 1/4 teaspoon of salt and the recipe calls for a tablespoon of Chambord or brandy.  We don’t happen to have those ingredients lying around the house like on many cooking shows, but I did have grenadine…so I used that instead.  Whisk this mixture together for a couple of minutes trying to achieve a doubling of its volume.  Mix in 1 1/2 tablespoons of flour and the browned butter.  Set the filling aside and tackle the nectarines.

The recipe calls for 2 1/2 pounds of nectarines.  I’m not sure if I used all of that because I bought 8 and used only 5 to make the dessert.  The key is to have a sharp knife so you can make the slices thin enough to curl into rosettes.  I found it easiest to divide the nectarine into quarters and then slice to about an 1/8 of an inch thick.  Start by curling a thin sliver into the “round” center of the rose, then wrap other slices around the center, layering outwards.  It’s going to take some practice to get…just except this fact from the beginning and it will keep you from throwing your hands up in dispair.  You can do smaller or larger roses depending on the desired result you are looking for.  I made 8 larger roses and placed them using a knife or offset spatula into the cooled crust.  Fill in any gaps with additional nectarine slivers.  Lastly, whisk your filling one more time to smooth it out, then pour into the center of the rosettes distributing evenly. 

Bake at 375 degrees for 20 minutes and then rotate and bake for another 20 minutes.  I found my crust got a little dark for my taste too quickly, so I covered it with foil while the filling baked.   The end result is spectacular…there is no other word for it.  This is one of those cases where you put in some effort and the reward is beautiful.

I always love making a tart.  The “tart” is the quintessential pastry item in the arsenal of my fantasy bakery. When you combine sweets with history and anything French, my blood starts to race and my heart starts to pound.  I’ve only been to France a couple of times but the feeling that these people know what they are doing, and have techniques handed down for generations assuring you that it is the most perfect bite of tart you will ever take in your life is humbling.  It’s the quest for the perfect tart that originally led me to the French Culinary School.

Fantasies of Julia child aside, we covered apple and pear tarts “101” but it always left me wanting more.  The wonder of a freshly baked, golden crust with colorful fruit filling sitting in the shelf lined glass front window of an old stone walled bakery hidden away up some random cobblestone street is enough to get anybody motivated to walk as far up the hill as necessary to acquire this “grail” of desserts.  It’s certainly the star of the show in my “one day” New England small town bakery and can also be the star of your next party or Saturday morning fantasies. 

I suggest you go sit out in your garden, or on your city fire escape loaded with potted heirloom tomatoes and herbs and get your thinking cap on.  Get the coffee brewing, smell that fresh or slightly carbon monoxide laced air and wait for inspiration.  I guarantee it will be worth it.  It’s just who I am.