Rosie's Making A Fruit Tart!

Yesterday, I went to Harris Teeter to get a few items with which to restock my pantry considering I was cooking Chinese that night: Mirin, rice vinegar, ginger root, baby corn, bamboo shoots, water chestnuts. As I went to the self-serve check out, the Helpful Lady Standing Guard said, "Oh, you must be cooking Chinese tonight!" Rosie: "Well, however did you know?" HLSG: "I have this sixth sense." Rosie: "Ahhh ... It's a gift, is it not?" HLSG: "Yes, indeed, it is." Rosie: "That must be why you get paid the big bucks." HLSG: "Absolutely!" I get to the end of the check out and turn to HLSG: "What about my senior citizen's discount?" HLSG: "You're good to go!" Rosie: "Don't you want to see my ID?" HLSG: "No, dear, you're good to go!" Sniff. Sniff. The HLSG came over to me, seeing my distress. "Honey, next time you come in, Imonna ask you for your ID even if it's for a jar of mustard." Rosie: "Thank you." Actually, last week, when I went to WalMart and bought not bad wine for $2.97 a bottle, I was carded. Amazed, I gushed to the checker-outer, "Golly, it's been a while since anybody carded me!" The maybe 19-year old replied: "Ma'am, we card everybody." Bastard. And DON'T CALL ME MA'AM! Where was I? Oh yeah. Harris Teeter. While I was in their lovely produce section, I found raspberries, blackberries, and blueberries. All on sale. I bought 2 packs of each. Which brings me to the subject of this post: Classic Berry Tart by Dorie Greenspan. Hey, I don't even like raspberries. Which brings me to another story. Years ago, when I was pregnant with Daughter Hawthorne, Mr. Hawthorne and I had just moved to the Outer Banks. It was January, 1985. I had made shrimp with a raspberry sauce for supper. And we had cantaloupe for dessert. Starting at 11:42 pm, I started throwing up. 12:43 am I threw up again. 1:44 am The same. 2:45 3:41 And don't even think I'm making these times up. They are indelibly etched on my psyche. So, I'm lying face down on the cool tile in the bathroom. Holding on to the bath tub to keep the room from spinning. This is BAD. Finally, the most Gawdawfullest night is over. I didn't sleep at all that night, what with the nausea, cramps, and vomiting. Next day, I felt OK. Sore, but kinda OK. During the horrible night, I had decided it was the raspberries that did me in, since that was what lingered, if you know what I mean. So, the next day, for lunch, I decided I needed something light for my stomach. I ate the rest of the cantaloupe. WRONG!!!!! The nausea immediately surrounded me in a foul enclosure of absolute craptitude. My guts wrenched. I thought it was the raspberries. And all the time it was the cantaloupe. I was upset. I've eaten cantaloupes all my life. I lived a hop, skip, and a jump from Turbeville. A bit of lemon juice and a sprinkling of freshly ground pepper on top of cantaloupe and you have goodly deliciocity. And in one pregnant night, I couldn't eat cantaloupes anymore. Well, I can eat 2 or 4 bites. After that, I'm sick as a dog. But the accompanying raspberry flavor stuck with me like stepped-in dog shit on the sole of my shoe. So now, I hate raspberries. Unreasonably so. Fast forward to 1987. I'm knocked up again. Preggers with Middle Hawthorne. Mr. H. and I go to Papagayo's, a Mexican restaurant on the beach road which, sadly, is NO LONGER there. I had a gaucamole sauce with chips and the main entree. SON-OF-A-GUN! I start feeling queezy. Have to go home. At about 11:30 pm, I start puking. Again, at 12:37 am. Then at 1:42 am. And at 2:36 am. To this day, I cannot eat avocados. (Except for a few bites.) ONE OF MY FAVORITE FOODS! Just like CANTALOUPES! So, today, Youngest Hawthorne is my favorite child, since during my pregnancy with him, I did not incur any food sensitivities, or aversions to foods that I absolutely flove, or any other type of gastronomic upheaval. However, I have majorly digressed. I will return now to my regularly scheduled post.

First, I'm going to make a sweet tart dough. This dough is also called pate sablee, with the little upside down "v" over the "a" in pate to make the "a" sound like "ah", and the accent ague over the first "e" in sablee, to make it a long "A." But I don't know how to make those characters. The dough is buttery, tender, and sandy, since that's what sablee means - sandy. A lot like shortbread. And I decided to make it nutty too, by adding the ground pecans.

My ingredients: 1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour 1/4 cup finely ground pecans 1/2 cup confectioner's sugar 1/4 teaspoon salt 9 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small pieces 1 large egg yolk

Flour, sugar, salt, and ground pecans went into the food processor. Pulse a few times to combine.

Butter pieces go on top. Process.

Stir the yolk to break it up, then add a little bit at a time, pulsing after each addition.

When all the yolk goes in, process in long pulses and listen for the different sound of the machine working the dough. The dough will ball up. Take it out.

Place on a floured surface.

And gently knead it, just to incorporate all ingredients.

Crap. Digital cameras do not focus over a homogeneous field. I should have put my finger down there, focused on it, then removed the finger and shot the picture. Just so it would be a focused picture. Anyways, what I did was butter my springform pan and press the dough evenly over the bottom and up the sides. Set the crust in the freezer for at least 30 minutes.

Now this is what I deal with. Dixie pulls up the little rug, gets right in my walkway/workplace area, and chills out. She's right in the way of where I walk back and forth and right in front of the sink. I am in HER way. Bitch. Next up, PASTRY CREAM.

My ingredients: 2 cups whole milk (I have no whole milk, so I used 3/4 cup 1% milk and 1 1/4 cups heavy cream.) 6 large egg yolks ( I used jumbo.) 1/2 cup sugar 1/3 cup cornstarch, sifted 2 teaspoons vanilla extract 3 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small bits, at room temp

I set the milk/cream mixture on medium heat and brought it up to a boil. While the milk is coming up to a boil, I'm preparing the eggs.

In a heavy pan, whisk the yolks together.

Add in the sugar.

Add in the cornstarch.

Whisk until thick and well-blended.

Ahh ... My milk has come to a boil.

Pour in a little bit of the milk, whisking, to temper the egg mixture.

Pour in the rest of the milk, whisking the entire time. Put the pan over medium heat, whisking vigorously, constantly, and thoroughly. Bring the mixture to a boil.

This is where it gets really cool. The consistency of the mixture changes suddently. It's like a BLOB. Whisk at a boil or bubble for 1 or 2 minutes, then remove from heat.

Whisk in the vanilla extract and let sit for 5 minutes. Then add in the butter bits, stirring until fully incorporated, a butter bit at a time, until the pastry cream is smooth and silky. Scrape the cream into a bowl, cover with plastic wrap, creating an airtight seal, and refrigerate.

Next, I got my sweet tart dough out of the freezer and buttered the shiny side of my foil.

I fit the foil, buttered side down, tightly against the crust.

I baked the dough in a preheated 375 degree oven for 25 minutes. Then I removed the foil, and pressed whatever poufy crust down with the back of a spoon. Put it back in the oven for about 16 more minutes, watching, turning, until nicely browned.

And here's my nicely baked sweet tart dough. The house smells really good now.

I rinsed and drained my blueberries, raspberries, and blackberries.

Released my tart from the constraints of its spring form pan.

The pastry cream went into the pie crust.

Hmmm ... I need to work with this.

I put plastic wrap over top and pressed the pastry cream evenly over the crust.

Spread it out with an offset knife.

Added my fruits. Isn't this pretty?

Next, I mixed some homemade strawberry jam and leftover crushed pineapple from something or other I'd made within the past week. Dorie called for red currant jelly, mixed with water, and brought to a boil to use for glazing, but I didn't have any, so I subbed the pineapple and strawberry.

Heated it up to boiling in the microwave, then processed it.

And poured over top of my berry tart. Can't wait to try this.

This is good. And it might just be the thing to get me over my dislike of raspberries. The fruits are nice and tart. The pastry cream is silky smooth and not too sweet. The crust is nutty and buttery.

Poor Dixie is tired and ready to go to bed.