Fresh Fig Tart with Rosemary Cornmeal Crust and Lemon Mascarpone Cream

Fresh figs in the market reminded me to pull this tart recipe out of my file. I've had it for a while and I really loved the sound of the rosemary cornmeal crust. And I was right, it's easy to make and tastes marvelous. Of course, you could use the lemon mascarpone cream any number of ways...just spoon it over any fresh fruit and it would be lovely, but combined with the rosemary crust, the flavors just sing. If you're not a fig fan, any fruit will do. 

You could use a large rectangular tart pan or a 10 inch round one, but I do love individual servings. You can make the crust and mascarpone a day ahead, then assemble the tart and hold it at room temperature for an hour or so. The currant jelly glaze is the perfect finishing touch, but I've used red raspberry and apricot as a glaze in other tarts....works fine.


Fresh Fig Tart with Rosemary Cornmeal Crust and Lemon Mascarpone Cream
From Gourmet magazine, July 2003

Ingredients:

For crust

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 cup yellow cornmeal (not stone-ground)

1 tablespoon sugar

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 stick (1/2 cup) cold unsalted butter, cut into pieces

1 1/2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh rosemary

4 to 5 tablespoons ice water

For filling

1/3 cup sour cream

1 cup mascarpone cheese (8 oz)

1/4 cup sugar

1 1/2 teaspoons finely grated fresh lemon zest

1/8 teaspoon salt

2 tablespoons red-currant jelly

1 tablespoon honey

1 1/2 lb fresh figs

Method:
Use round or rectangular pans with removable bottoms.

Pulse together flour, cornmeal, sugar, and salt in a food processor. Add butter and rosemary and pulse until mixture resembles coarse meal with some small (roughly pea-size) butter lumps. Drizzle evenly with 4 tablespoons ice water and pulse until just incorporated. (It took 5 tablespoons for me)

Gently squeeze a small handful: If it doesn't hold together, add more water, 1/2 tablespoon at a time, pulsing after each addition and continuing to test.

Press dough evenly onto bottom and up sides of tart pan with floured fingers. Chill crust until firm, about 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 400°F.

Bake crust in middle of oven until center and edges are golden, 25 to 30 minutes, then cool in pan on a rack.

Whisk together sour cream, mascarpone, sugar, zest, and salt in a bowl.

Heat jelly and honey in a small saucepan until jelly is melted; allow to cool slightly.

Remove sides of tart pans and spread mascarpone cream in shells. Cut figs (or whatever fruit you're using) into 1/4-inch-thick slices and arrange over cream. Brush figs with honey glaze.

Apricot Tart

Can you handle just one more fruit dessert? Grab some fresh apricots next trip to the market and make this divine tart. My favorite fruit dessert this summer. So far anyway. Of course, like so many of my other favorite pastries, this recipe comes from Pastry Studio. I made it in a rectangular pan with a removable bottom, but you could make it in individual tart pans or a large round one.

I do have one piece of advice: I suggest you follow the directions more carefully than I did for making the crumb base/topping. Do not over mix! I let the machine go a bit too long and got more of a dough than a crumble. Stop the food processor when it's still crumbly. (Not that my tart wasn't delicious anyway but it's supposed to look like this.....a cornmeal CRUMB tart!) You can always do the final tossing by hand.
The tart isn't overly sweet so you might want to have some ice cream or sweetened whipped cream handy for any guests or family with a decided sweet tooth. I loved it just the way it was. I like a tart tart. Hah! You know what I mean.


Apricot Cornmeal Crumb (sort of) Tart
From Pastry Studio

Ingredients for the crumble:

8 fresh ripe apricots

1/4 cup water (yes, I know it doesn't sound like enough, but it is)

1/4 C + 2 T sugar

1/2 vanilla bean (I used 1/2 teaspoon vanilla bean paste)

pinch of cinnamon

Ingredients for the filling:

2 cups flour

1/4 cup + 2 tablespoon fine cornmeal

3/4 cup sugar

1/4 teaspoon plus 1/8 teaspoon salt

6 oz (1 1/2 sticks) cold butter, cut into small pieces

3 egg yolks

1/4 cup + 2 tablespoons sour cream

Method:

Cut the apricots in half and remove the pits. Combine the water and sugar together and bring to a simmer. Split and seed the vanilla bean (or add the vanilla bean paste) and add to the syrup along with the apricots and the cinnamon. Lower the heat to a low simmer and cook the mixture until the apricots starts to  look a bit like jam but still hold their shape. Take off the heat and pour into a strainer placed over a bowl to drain. Set aside to cool.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Whisk together the flour, cornmeal, sugar and salt and place in a food processor. Add the butter pieces and pulse just enough to begin to break the butter up into smallish pieces. Mix the yolks and sour cream together and add to the food processor. Pulse just a few times until the mixture looks like it’s coming together but is still rather crumbly. Do not over mix. Pour into a large bowl and toss gently with your hands.

Place about 2/3 of the dough crumbles into a 9” tart pan with the bottom lined with parchment. Gently spread an even layer to the edges and press lightly without compressing it too much. (Because I had dough at this point and not crumble, I was forced to press it more into a crust and I also pushed it up the sides a bit.) Cover the bottom of the pan completely so there aren’t any holes. Layer the cooled apricots evenly on top, leaving about a little border around the edge. Sprinkle the remaining dough crumble over the top of the apricots. Be sure to spread some out to the edges of the tart pan to form a border. 

Place the tart on a sheet pan lined with parchment and bake for about 35 minutes. Cool completely before removing from the tart pan to serve.

Grandma's Rhubarb Pie

(Be sure to enter my St. Patrick's Day giveaway HERE.)

Finally, after a year, I'm getting around to posting my mother's (and her mother's) rhubarb pie recipe. Sorry about the delay. It's not that it's such an uncommon recipe, but many other recipes call for tapioca or some other fruit like strawberries along with the rhubarb. Not my mother's recipe. She was a purist. She'd pick it out of the garden and we'd have it stewed for lunch and a pie for dinner. 

                                                                                     Daughter Tracy and my mother, 1975                                                                        

 I love her recipe, but wanted to put a bit of a twist on it. Last year, a couple blogs posted some mini pies made in those wonderful Ball jars. The small ones. (Take a look HERE and HERE.) It was such a cute idea and I have always loved individual desserts like this, so I thought it might be fun to take Mother's whole pie recipe and turn it into individual servings. 

It was a success flavor-wise...in fact a smashing success. And fun to eat. However, when these cooled, the fruit had shrunk about 1/2 inch below the crust. I noticed cherries and apples were used in the blogs I mentioned above and they probably don't shrink like rhubarb does. Still, I remain completely enchanted with these little Ball jar pies and will continue to make them with rhubarb; if you're as determined as I am, here's how to avoid some of my problems: be sure the pie crust is sealed to itself and not the jar so the shrinkage won't be quite so noticeable; another suggestion would be to pile the rhubarb up higher in the center which should also help. In addition, if you find the juices run over or leak through the crust, it will make it difficult to remove the pie in one piece from the jar. So just serve it in the jar, which is really a cute presentation. 

I made a couple jars with the crust on the top only, wanting to see the fruit through the sides of the jar. We thought it was fun served like that and there is less pie crust to deal with.....both in terms of pressing it in the jar and in calories.  :)  Obviously you have to serve it in the jar if you make it this way. The rhubarb was nice and red and looked pretty peeking through the sides of the jar. 

As far as ingredients are concerned, here's mother's rule of thumb for a making a rhubarb pie: for every cup of sliced rhubarb, there should be 1/4 cup sugar and 1 tablespoon flour. And when you make the crust, use shortening. Not butter, shortening. I use Crisco. (I suspect she and her mother used lard in their crusts.) Please note that while I made mini pies for this post, the recipe below is for one regular pie. 


Little Rhubarb Pies

Ingredients for the crust: 

2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons sugar
2/3 cup vegetable shortening, plus 2 tablespoons
6 tablespoons ice water 

Ingredients for the filling: 

5 cups sliced rhubarb
1 1/4 cups sugar
5 tablespoons flour
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1  1/2 tablespoons butter. 

Method for the crust:

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Make the crust: before measuring the flour, stir it to leaven with air and then measure out 2 cups. Combine the flour, salt and sugar in a large bowl and fluff with a fork. Cut the shortening into the flour with a fork or pastry blender. Stop as soon as the sheen of the shortening disappears and the mixture is a bunch of coarse pieces. Sprinkle a tablespoon of ice water at a time over the dough, lifting and tossing it with the fork. When it begins to come together, gather the dough, press it into a ball and then pull it apart; if it crumbles in your hands, it needs more water. Add a teaspoon or two more water, as needed. 

Gather the dough into two slightly unequal balls, the larger one for the bottom crust and the smaller one for the top. Flatten the larger ball, reforming any frayed edges with the sides of your hand. Dust with flour and roll the dough, starting from the center and moving toward the edges. Take a knife or thin spatula and quickly work its edge between the crust and the counter top. Lift the dough to the side; dust the dough and counter top with flour. Roll again until the diameter is an inch or 2 larger than that of the pie pan. Lay the rolling pin a third of the way from one of the edges. Roll the crust onto the pin and then unroll the crust into a 9-inch pie pan and press it into place. Place in the freezer. 

Method for the filling:

In a large bowl, blend the rhubarb, sugar, flour and cinnamon. Pour into the crust-lined pie pan. Dot with butter. 

(If you are going to make the mini-pies, cut the dough to fit the jar...there is a lot of crust when you make these. Work with it, flattening it as much as you can to fit the sides. And then just pile in the rhubarb and top it with a lattice crust.)

For a single large pie: roll out the top crust. Dab the rim of the bottom crust with water to create a glue. Then roll out the top crust and cut it into strips and interlace the pieces to form a lattice top. Bake for 15 minutes; reduce the temperature to 350 degrees and bake 25 to 30 minutes more, or until a bit of pink juice bubbles between the the lattice strips in the crust. Serves 8.  (Time will vary if you use the individual jars.) With pies like this, the juices always run over, so line a pan with foil before baking.

A Stilton and Wild Mushroom Galette

There are lots of lovely stone fruit galettes this time of year, so I have a little surprise for you: a savory galette. I had seen it quite a while ago on Smitten Kitchen and just recently made it for some guests. Deb's recipe was made with a pastry crust, but I just happened to have one sheet of puff pastry left in my freezer and I thought, why not? And I also had a package of dried morels. The only thing left to buy was some cheese and some extra mushrooms.

I hope you like the strong and tangy flavor of stilton because it really shines in this galette.  My family happens to love it and one of my guests was originally from Great Britain...he was in 7th heaven. (I made some of Ina Garten's stilton crackers for he and his wife last year and they loved those too. Must remember to post about them.)

Stilton has been made since the 1700s, and has earned a protected origin designation, which means that only Stilton meeting a set of exacting standards can be labeled and sold as Stilton. It is produced in two varieties: the well-known blue and the lesser-known white.

•There are just 6 dairies in the world licensed to make Blue Stilton cheese
•It takes 136 pints milk (78 litres) to make one 17 lb (8kg) Stilton cheese
•Over 1 million Stilton cheeses are made each year

•More than 10% of output is exported to some 40 countries world-wide

And here's an odd fact I ran across: a 2005 study carried out by the British Cheese Board claimed that when it came to dream types, Stilton cheese seemed to cause odd dreams, with 75% of men and 85% of women experiencing bizarre and vivid dreams after eating a 20-gram serving of the cheese half an hour before going to sleep. That's less than 3/4 of an ounce, not much at all. On the other hand, most of us aren't eating this right before we go to bed either.

I used three kinds of mushrooms in my galette: my reconstituted morels, some shiitakes and some baby bellas. You'll find this galette is enough for 8-10 people as it goes a long way and it packs quite a punch. A small slice is enough for each person. Besides, the smaller the piece, the easier to hold so you don't have to supply plates!


Wild Mushroom and Stilton Galette
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen,  October 19, 2006

Ingredients:
1 sheet of frozen puff pastry, thawed in the fridge overnight and rolled out to a 10 to 12" circle. Prick a fork all over the bottom, leaving a 1/2 inch around the edge.

For the filling:
1/4 ounce dried wild mushrooms, such as morels, porcini or shiitakes
1 cup boiling water
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
3/4 cup sliced green onions
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 teaspoon chopped fresh rosemary
1/2 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
1 lb. assorted fresh wild mushrooms, such as chanterelles, porcini and shiitakes, brushed
clean and large mushrooms thinly sliced (If these are unavailable, fill in with some button mushrooms)
5 ounces Stilton or other good-quality blue cheese

Method:
Make the filling: Place the dried mushrooms in a small bowl and add the boiling water. Let stand for 30 minutes until softened. Drain the mushrooms and mince finely.

Preheat an oven to 400°F.

In a large fry pan over medium heat, melt the butter. Add the green onions and saute, stirring occasionally, until soft, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic, rosemary and thyme and continue to cook, stirring, for 1 minute more. Increase the heat to high, add the fresh and rehydrated mushrooms, and saute until the mushrooms are tender and the liquid they released has completely evaporated, 8 to 10 minutes. Transfer to a plate and let cool.

On a floured work surface, roll out the puff pastry to a 10 to 12 inch round. Transfer to an parchment paper lined baking sheet.

Crumble the blue cheese into a bowl, add the cooled mushrooms and stir well. Spread the mixture over the dough, leaving a 1/2-inch border.

Bake until golden brown, 30 to 40 minutes. Remove from the oven, let stand for 5 minutes, then slide the galette onto a serving plate. Cut into wedges and serve hot, warm or at room temperature. Serves 8-10 as an appetizer or first course, depending on the size of the slices.

Gourmet's Apricot Galette

There's nothing simpler than making a galette. Savory or sweet, puff pastry or pie pastry, they're a delight to the eyes and a treat for the palate. I love the country look of an apple galette made with pie pastry and the elegance of a fruit galette made with puff pastry. Both are a snap to do now that we have both frozen puff pastry and packaged pie dough. Although I must be honest and say I usually make my own pie pastry, there is nothing wrong with using the packaged variety when you're in a hurry or don't want to waste the time indoors on a beautiful  summer day.

I made some individual galettes for a friend last week with Rainier cherries and others with black cherries using Cannelle-Vanille's recipe and her delicious sugar dough.  I made a banana galette too, because I had some dough left over AND some ripe bananas on the counter. My grandmother used to make these (but she never called them by the fancy French name of galette) when she had leftover dough from a pie. I just sprinkled a little sugar and cinnamon on the bananas like she did. That brought back some sweet memories. Kids love these little "leftover" banana gems. They can pick them up like a cookie and eat them outside.
 

So, when I had some lovely apricots left over from my apricot sorbet, I made Gourmet's Apricot Galette with frozen puff pastry. With a dollop of sweetened whipped cream or a scoop of ice cream, it's the perfect summer dessert.

Apricot Galette
Gourmet Magazine, June 1999

Ingredients:
1/4 cup sliced, toasted almonds
1/4 cup confectioners' sugar
6 fresh apricots (preferably underripe and very tart)
half a 17 1/4-ounce package frozen puff pastry sheets (1 sheet), thawed overnight in fridge
4 tablespoons granulated sugar

Method:
Preheat oven to 425°F.
In a food processor pulse almonds with confectioners' sugar until finely ground.
Halve and pit apricots and cut into 1/8-inch-thick wedges.
On a lightly floured surface unfold pastry sheet and cut out a 9-inch round. Transfer round to a baking pan lined with parchment paper and prick pastry all over with a fork. Spoon almond mixture evenly over pastry, leaving a 1/4-inch border. Decoratively arrange apricot wedges, overlapping them, on top of almond mixture and sprinkle with granulated sugar.

Bake galette in middle of oven until edges are golden brown, about 30 minutes. With a spatula transfer galette to a rack to cool.
Serve with sweetened whipped cream or ice cream.

Serves 6-8

A Lemon Tart

Who doesn't love a lemon tart? Yes, I know some of us like a slice of Lemon Meringue Pie and my sister is crazy for something slightly different called Lemon Angel Pie which uses meringue as a crust rather than a topping. I'm not turning anything down you understand; I'm up for lemon anything, but my hands down favorite is a tart.

Dorie Greenspan defines the difference between a pie and a tart: a tart gives equal billing to all three components: the crust, the filling and the topping, if there is one. Every bite contains equal amounts of each. Pies, on the other hand, have more filling, a little less topping and even less crust.

So here's the thing: the crust of a tart has got to be really good. Once that's made, everything else is a breeze. Nothing is simpler than a lemon tart. I'm going to give you the crust recipe first; you'll find this makes a flaky, perfect crust. The trick is to use a solid shortening like Crisco along with butter. It's simple enough to make in a food processor. Now if you're anything like me, you'll mess it up rolling it out. But tarts are very forgiving; if you screw up, fix it by repairing it with your fingers. Just try not to over-handle the dough, that's a great big No No.

Here's a question for you: when someone puts a piece of pie or tart in front of you, where do you cut your first forkful? At the foremost point facing you? Well, I go to the back and cut a corner of the crust first. As far as I'm concerned if the crust is no good,  I'm not wasting the calories.

This recipe makes enough for 2 crusts. Use one now and freeze the other.

The Crust

Ingredients:

2-1/2 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
12 tablespoons (1-1/2 sticks) cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/4 inch cubes
5 tablespoons solid vegetable shortening,cold
Ice water
One 9 inch tart pan, with fluted edges and a removable bottom


Method:

Place the flour, sugar and salt in your food processor. Pulse a couple times.
Add the butter and shortening all at once and pulse 5-10 times or until the mixture forms moist crumbs. Sprinkle four tablespoons of  ice water over the crumbs and pulse just until the dough comes together. It should barely be together- not a ball.
Bring the dough together on a floured surface to form a disc and cut it in half. Wrap the discs in in plastic wrap. You can freeze one disc now for use later. Refrigerate the other half for at least 30 minutes.
For this tart, we need a par-baked crust. Roll out the dough on a floured surface to 3/8 inch thick. Fit the dough into your tart pan. I use a rolling pin across the top of the tart pan to cut the extra dough off.
Prick holes in the bottom of the tart with a fork, line it with tin foil and fill with weights or beans. Bake in a 400°  oven for 10 minutes. Carefully remove from the oven and take out the foil and weights. Return to the oven for another 5 minutes. Cool on a rack.

The Filling

Now for the filling. Only four ingredients.  Eggs, sugar, lemon and cream. How easy is that? I've had tarts  filled with a lemon curd and others with a creamier filling. I like a mixture; not too much filling and not as tart as lemon curd. And I'm a purist. No whipped cream on top, no piped meringue; at most, a dusting of confectioners sugar.

I was fortunate enough to find some Meyer lemons for my tart too.
Has anyone ever told you why Meyer lemons are so good? The Meyer lemon is a hybrid, a cross between a regular lemon and either an orange or a mandarin, slightly sweeter than a regular lemon. Frank Meyer, a plant explorer for the U.S. Department of Agriculture, found them growing near Peking and introduced them to the U.S. in 1908. They're grown mainly in California, but Texas and Florida grow them too. The season starts around November and lasts through January, although often a month or so longer. I was lucky to find some this late in the season.

Baked Lemon Tart
From Once Upon a Tart by Frank Mentesana and Jerome Audureau

Ingredients:

1 par-baked crust
3 large eggs
3 large egg yolks
1/2 cup sugar
zest of 1 lemon
3/4 cup lemon juice (from about 4 lemons)
3/4 cup heavy cream

Method:

Preheat oven to 350°.
Whisk the eggs and yolks together. While still whisking, add the sugar, then the lemon juice, rind and then the cream.
Pour this mixture into your par-baked shell. Fill it to within 1/8 inch from the top edge.
CAREFULLY place the tart on the center rack of your oven and bake for 25 to 30 minutes or until the filling is firm to the touch and doesn't jiggle when you shake the pan.
Set on a rack to cool. Remove tart from pan very carefully.

The Key Lime Pie Debate

Back in the 50's there was a restaurant in Ft. Lauderdale called Tuna Gardens. Odd name I know, but they made a Key lime pie to kill for. It was my first introduction to a “real” Key lime pie. Every Sunday we would have a baked, stuffed chicken from Keese’s and Key lime pie from Tuna Gardens. Those pies were made the way Key lime pies were supposed to be made: graham cracker crust, a yellow filling made with condensed milk, eggs, limes and topped with a meringue. One would think: end of story. Not really.

The Key lime pie became Florida’s official state pie in 2006 but very few people really know how to make one. Think about it: how often have you had a Key lime pie with a meringue topping? Bakers say a meringue pie takes too much time to make, is hard to make, takes up too much refrigerator shelf space and has too much waste potential etc. etc. Excuses, excuses.

So here's a bit of pie history: the first key lime pies were made over 100 years ago in Key West with whole pelican eggs- without a meringue top. Later, Key West homemakers switched to chicken eggs and discovered that the whites ruined their pies. Since nothing was wasted, the homemakers added meringues to the pies to make use of the egg whites. Condensed milk (invented in 1856) was used because of the lack of fresh milk and refrigeration until the arrival of tank trucks with the opening of the Overseas Highway in 1930. But condensed milk turned out to be a successful necessity: it makes the pies really smooth.

Things suddenly changed. A hurricane in 1926 wiped out the Key lime plantations in South Florida; growers replanted with Persian limes which don’t have the thorns of the Key limes and are easier to ship with their thicker skins. The Key lime became scarce. The name survived on menus, but most of the pies were made from Persian lime juice, which lacks the acidic ying needed to balance the sugary yang of the condensed milk. In these photos, the Persian limes are obviously the larger ones.

We were in danger of losing the “real” Key lime pie. Enter the boom in New American cooking and once again, everything changed. As is always the case, the scarcity of Key limes led to a demand for them. Top chefs demanded fresh fruit, no matter what the price. And those little Key limes became important again, even if they were a pain to juice. Very few Key lime trees are grown in the actual Keys, and those that are, almost entirely in backyards, never leave the islands. Some 10% of Key limes sold in the U.S. are now grown in southwest Miami. And the other 90%? They are imported mainly from Mexico or Guatemala. Why? Money, basically. We couldn't compete with the Central Americans, who have cheaper land and cheaper labor.

So now that Key limes are available, what’s up with the debate? Well.....Key lime pie aficionados argue on and on about the proper way to make one. Graham-cracker or pastry crust? Meringue on top or whipped cream, or neither? Cooked or uncooked filling? These kind of debates are meant to be prolonged, not resolved, but among the Key West natives (also called Conchs), there is a basic agreement: a real Key lime pie never contains gelatin and never, ever contains green food coloring. There are only three essential ingredients for the filling: egg yolks, lime juice and condensed milk, beaten together. That’s it. Not quite as simple as boiling water, but close, which is part of the charm of the thing.

I had been making the real Key lime pie for years but much as I loved it, I always found the pie to be too densely sweet; the sweetness needed to be cut just a bit. One day I discovered another recipe in a fabulous old cookbook: A Jug of Wine by Morrison Wood. I baked it and was completely converted. My father, the purist, always sneered at my “new” pie because not only did it not have a meringue, it didn’t (scandalous!) have a graham cracker crust either. Mr Wood suggested beating the egg whites and folding them into the lime juice, yolk and condensed milk mixture making it more of a Key lime chiffon pie. Can't help it, I loved it. I guess that makes me a traitor.

Dad told me I should know better.

(Nonetheless, he ate my pies.)

Oh well, you can decide for yourself….. but Morrison Wood’s pie is better!

The Original Key Lime Pie

Ingredients:

1 (14 oz) can sweetened condensed milk

4 egg yolks (reserve whites for meringue)

4 oz. Key lime juice

9" graham cracker pie crust

Meringue Topping:

4 egg whites

1 pinch cream of tartar

2 tablespoons sugar

Method:

Mix milk and egg yolks completely with paddle attachment. Slowly add Key lime juice and mix thoroughly. Pour into 9-inch prepared and baked graham cracker pie shell. Bake at 350° for 8 minutes. Place egg whites and cream of tartar in a mixer and beat egg whites until soft peaks form and then gradually add sugar and continue beating until stiff peaks form, Place meringue on the hot Key lime pie, sealing edges to the crust, then lightly brown in the oven.

Morrison Wood's Key Lime Pie

Ingredients:

1 can (14 ounces) Eagle brand sweetened condensed milk
1/3 cup fresh Key lime juice
3 eggs, separated
1 prebaked pie shell
1 cup whipping cream
sugar to taste
1 tablespoon rum

cinnamon

Method:

Mix together the condensed milk, the lime juice and the beaten yolks of 3 eggs. Beat the whites until stiff and carefully fold in. Place the mixture in a good flaky prebaked pie shell and bake in a 250° oven for 10 minutes.
Cool and then place in the refrigerator. When ready to serve- whip the cream, add a little bit of sugar (not much), a sprinkle of cinnamon and the rum. Cover the pie with the whipped cream mixture. Should serve 6, but it is so delicious, 4 could finish it.

I Love Rhubarb

After having seen a mouth-watering photograph of a rhubarb tart the other day, my childhood came rushing back. We were raised in a small town on the St. Clair River in Michigan. My grandparents lived next door and their home was surrounded by gardens; I can still picture my grandmother in a huge straw hat out there toiling away. That garden was chock full of all kinds of flowers- roses, lilacs, whatever- I can't remember them all now, but something always seemed to be blooming- and there was a glorious magnolia tree in one corner. On the back side of the house and somewhat out of the way, there was a small kitchen garden. Among other things, Grandma Smith had a bed of rhubarb- which if you know rhubarb, takes up a lot of space. My mother would go over and break off bunches of it- the leaves were enormous- so out of proportion to the stalks. And here’s something nobody ever mentioned to me when I was young: did you know the leaves were poisonous?

Mother loved stewed rhubarb and also made the best rhubarb pie I have ever eaten. Most people use strawberries or tapioca to thicken their rhubarb pies, but Mother didn’t. It was sticky, gooey and slightly runny when you cut into it, but absolutely perfect. And nobody made pie crust like my mother and her mother before her. A talent which got lost in the gene pool shuffle because even with their recipe in hand- mine does not turn out anywhere near as well. (Could it have been because they used lard? Or maybe I just have to face facts- some of us have the pastry talent and some don't.) Luckily, the recipe I am going to tell you about uses puff pastry and not pie crust. It must have been invented just for me.

Here's some info about rhubarb: it is actually a leafy vegetable of the buckwheat family; however in 1947 the U.S. Customs Court ruled rhubarb was to be classified as a fruit, since that is its primary usage. The rhubarb season runs from April to September, although it can be forced which accounts for its availability early in the year. Field-grown rhubarb has cherry-red stalks, bright green leaves and has the most pronounced flavor of the two main varieties. Hothouse rhubarb has pink to pale red stalks, yellow-green leaves, milder flavor, and is less stringy. And once planted, rhubarb plantings remain productive for 8 to 15 years- no wonder Grandma's rhubarb took up an entire bed- it had probably been there for years.

So I’ve always had a special place in my heart for anything rhubarb because we had it so much as children. I guess it never occurred to me to plant it in any of my later gardens so I never made many rhubarb dishes for my kids. That's OK though because my mother served it often when we visited; my kids got their share of it. And while to this day I still love stewed rhubarb, I now cringe at the amount of sugar in it so rarely make it. I remember that about the pies, too. Very sugary. And then we would add insult to injury and top it with vanilla ice cream. Ohhh so good.

The rhubarb tart recipe and photo that caused all this nostalgia appeared in Gourmet Magazine's April issue. What I want to know is where did they find rhubarb stems that thick? Had to be from someone’s garden. The rhubarb I found in my produce section (no home grown rhubarb beds in Florida) was not nearly as thick. I'd suspect they were photoshopping around with it except I don't think it's possible.

Getting back to the article: they also referred to the recipe as speedy or quick dessert or something - which, believe me, it isn’t. Well, maybe it would have been if I had fat rhubarb to work with. Anyway, slicing the narrow rhubarb stalks thinly AND on a diagonal takes forever (all those strings, worse even than celery) and a lot of patience. I think what they meant by quick was it didn’t have to sit in the fridge overnight or something.

Even though it has a yummy glaze, you may think it needs more sweet. Gourmet’s suggestion is ice cream. I guess I agree although I wouldn’t call it bitter, but tart. Frankly, I liked it the way it was- right from the oven, crispy and warm, but I bet lots of you would put ice cream on it. Well, no matter what you top it with, it's fun to make. And it's a great summer dessert- especially if you are lucky enough to have a rhubarb bed in your back yard.

Rhubarb Tart

(Adapted from Gourmet Magazine, April, 2009)

Ingredients:
1 cup fresh orange juice
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1/2 cup sugar
3/4 pound rhubarb stalks, thinly sliced diagonally
1 sheet frozen puff pastry, thawed
1/2 teaspoon grated orange rind

Method:

Preheat your oven to 400°.
Mix together the orange juice, sugar and lemon juice. Add the sliced rhubarb and let it stand for 10 to 15 minutes, stirring once in a while.
Cut the puff pastry in half lengthwise, then roll out each piece into an 11-by 7-inch rectangle on a lightly floured surface with a floured rolling pin. Arrange pastry rectangles side by side on parchment paper on a large baking sheet.
Take a sharp knife and score the pastry around the outside, about 1/2 inch in. Do not cut through the pastry. Prick the pastry inside all over with a fork.
Strain the rhubarb mixture and reserve the liquid. Overlap the rhubarb slices in the puff pastry. Repeat with the other piece of pastry.

Bake for about 30 minutes until golden.

Meanwhile, pour the reserved liquid into a saucepan and reduce until about 1/4 cup, skimming off the foam as you go along. This should take about 15-20 minutes.
Place the tarts on a rack to cool. Brush all over with the glaze, pastry included. Sprinkle with orange zest. Serves about 8. Serve with ice cream.