Herbed Tomato Tart

There were two tomato tarts vying for my attention. One of them was small and round and beautiful with various colors of cherry tomatoes on top. It was made with homemade pastry. The other was a delectable, large rectangle covered with red cherry tomatoes and herbs. That one was built on a base of store-bought puff pastry. In the end, my laziness won out, and using puff pastry from the store was the deciding factor. I did find a pretty mix of colorful, local, cherry tomatoes, so I achieved the look of the other tart somewhat. This herbed tomato tart is from The New Comfort Food. The simple look of the tomato topping belies the hidden combination of flavors. Before the tomatoes were placed on the tart, shredded parmigiano cheese was added and baked onto the pastry layer. Also, you'd never pick out the singular taste of anchovies here since they were finely chopped and tossed with the tomatoes before roasting, but they add an addictive, savory note. With rich, buttery pastry, sweet, roasted tomatoes, and the hidden umami of the cheese and anchovies, this tart tasted even better than expected.

Since I chose to make this out of laziness, it's obviously not difficult to prepare, but there are three steps to the process. First, two sheets of puff pastry were fitted into a sheet pan, docked and weighted to prevent puffing, and baked for 25 minutes. The pie weights were removed, and shredded parmigiano was spread over the tart shell. It baked for an additional 15 minutes. Then, the cherry tomatoes were tossed with olive oil, finely chopped anchovies, and I added a little minced garlic. The mixture was roasted under the broiler for about 12 minutes, and the pan was shaken a few times while roasting to turn the tomatoes. Last, the tart shell was filled with the tomato mixture, chopped basil, chives, and oregano were sprinkled on top, and it was baked for a last and final 15 minutes.

Even though the base of the pastry bakes up thin, and the toppings are mostly just fresh tomatoes and herbs, this is a rich and filling tart. The decadent, buttery, sweet, and savory flavors are perfect with a crisp, light salad, and a glass of wine. I'm glad my laziness got the better of me since I ended up learning the secrets of the hidden, big flavor in this simple tart.

Pistachio Tart with Strawberries and Rhubarb

I wasn't sure if anyone grew rhubarb in central Texas. For the last couple of years when I was looking for it, I never saw any at our farmers' markets. Some people even told me that rhubarb is more common in the north than it is in the south. Then, all of sudden this spring, I started hearing rumors of locally grown rhubarb being available at markets and farm stands. I stopped by the farm stand at Boggy Creek Farm one morning, and they indeed had freshly cut rhubarb. It wasn't as big or as red as the stalks I see in the grocery store, but it was grown with no chemicals right here in Austin, so I was proud to bring it home. I had a mash-up of a plan in mind for it. In Martha Stewart's Baking Handbook, there were ideas from two different tarts that I wanted to combine into one dessert. The rhubarb tart recipe in the book suggests cooking big pieces of rhubarb in a sugar syrup with a vanilla bean and beet wedges. The beet wedges give the syrup and the rhubarb more red color. Once the rhubarb was tender, it was removed, and the syrup was reduced to a thick glaze. The other tart from the book was made with a pistachio crust, was filled with a creme fraiche and whipped cream mixture, and was topped with berries and whole pistachios. I wanted both.

I made the pistachio dough as instructed by finely grinding shelled pistachios and adding them to butter mixed with confectioners' sugar. Egg yolks were added to that followed by flour, salt, and a little cream. The dough was soft and slightly sticky, so it was necessary to chill it before rolling. Then, rather than making individual tartlets as shown in the book, I made one rectangular tart. There was extra dough, so I did make a few tartlets as well to freeze and use another time. The tart crust was blind baked with pie weights and then allowed to cool. Going back to the rhubarb tart in the book, I cooked the cut pieces of rhubarb as suggested with sugar, water, a vanilla bean, and one beet cut into wedges. Since my rhubarb was more green than red, it required a little extra cooking time to become tender and sweet. Then, it was removed and allowed to dry on paper towels. The sugar syrup was strained and then poured into a clean pan to reduce until thick. One more flip back to the pistachio tarts to make the filling which was a mix of creme fraiche, cream, and sugar. That was spread in the cooled crust and then topped with halved strawberries, whole pistachios, the drained rhubarb, and last was drizzled with the cooled red, sugar syrup glaze.

The glaze was bright red from the beet, full of vanilla flavor, and was delightful. It was so pretty, I wanted to boil it to a higher temperature so I could turn it into lollipops. The pistachio crust was a winner too. It was easy to shape it in the tart pan, and the faint green tint contrasted well with the filling and toppings. I had no uncertainty about the creme fraiche and whipped cream layer under the strawberries and rhubarb, and it was tangy and rich as it should be. So, this mix of two tarts made one pleasing dessert.

Apple Phyllo Tarts

Apple fritters, apple dumplings, or a buttery apple-filled coffee cake would have been delicious, but I wanted to keep things a little less indulgent at least until Valentine’s Day. So, I found a great way to use the apples I’ve been getting from my CSA in Martha Stewart's Healthy Quick Cook. These are easy, little tarts to make with store-bought phyllo dough, and I even found whole wheat phyllo dough to make them that much more virtuous. The phyllo tart shells are baked empty to keep them very crisp, and the cooked apples with their syrup get spooned into the shells just before serving. The recipe was kept simple and low-calorie for a dessert by using minimal amounts of butter and sugar. I did complicate matters just slightly by adding two additional ingredients with rosemary and lemon zest.

Once the phyllo was thawed by leaving it in the refrigerator overnight, the sheets needed to be cut into squares. I doubled the recipe to make eight tart shells instead of four and used six sheets of phyllo which were stacked and cut into seven inch squares. I’m terrible at eye-balling a straight, even-sided square, so I used my trusty, kitchen ruler. Ordinarily, when using phyllo, each piece is brushed with melted butter before another layer is added, but here, the butter was only used on the second of three layers. A scant bit of sugar was sprinkled on each layer, and three squares were stacked for each tart. The stacked layers of dough were then gently fitted into ring molds that had been sprayed with oil. I used English muffins rings. Then, the tart shells were baked for about ten minutes until crisp and golden. Meanwhile, apples were chopped and combined with lemon juice and apple juice, and I left the peels on them. Butter was melted in a skillet, one tablespoon of sugar was added to caramelize, and a splash of cognac gave it another layer of flavor. Out of instinct, I added some sea salt to the caramel. Then, the apples and juices were added to the pan and were left to cook while the sauce reduced, and that’s when I added a sprig of rosemary. The cooked apples and sauce were spooned into the tart shells, and I garnished with chopped rosemary and some lemon zest.

If you don’t have ring molds or English muffin rings handy, you can also just make little stacks of crumpled phyllo sheets to be baked and then topped with the apples. On television years ago, I saw Michel Richard prepare a recipe involving just that with multiple layers of apples and phyllo pieces served with custard. But, if you have a way to form cup shapes with the layers of phyllo, they hold the filling perfectly. I loved how they shattered into flaky bits when cutting into them with a fork. And, the caramel sauce with lemon and subtle rosemary flavor made the apples special without being too rich.

Maple Brulee Tart

Breakfast has a good hold on maple syrup, and that’s ok because it’s expected there. It’s nice to wake up to the flavor of maple, but I think dessert deserves more maple time than it gets. I occasionally see mentions of cakes or frostings made with maple, but it seems to me there could more occurrences of it in sweet treats at times other than in the morning. I do have a thing for maple, and it’s possible this all stems from there only ever being one lone, maple-glazed doughnut in the assorted dozens we used to get. When I reached into the box and the maple-glazed was already gone, my morning was ruined. So, when I saw an article about maple syrup in Donna Hay magazine a few months ago, I cut out all the recipes to keep. There’s a cake and a cookie that I’ll try soon enough, but this bruleed tart was the first I had to make. The maple syrup is in the custard, and after baking in the vanilla pastry shell, sugar was caramelized on top to give it bits of sweet crunch on the surface. The recipe isn’t available online, so I’ll include it below.

The vanilla pastry was made first with flour, sugar, and baking powder being blended in a food processor. Chopped cold butter was added, it was processed until crumbly, and then cold water and vanilla were added and mixed until the dough formed. After chilling a bit, the dough was rolled out, fitted into a tart pan, and blind baked. To make the custard, milk and half and half were heated until just boiling before being poured over a mixture of eggs, egg yolks, maple syrup, and sugar while whisking. The custard was cooled a bit before being poured into the tart shell. The filled tart then baked for about 25 minutes or until just set. Last, the baked tart was sprinkled with superfine sugar, and I placed it under the broiler for a few minutes to caramelize. This would have been a good time to use a kitchen blow torch for caramelizing the sugar because the edges of the tart shell stood taller than the filling causing the edges to brown at the same time as the sugar. With a torch, you could more easily direct the heat. Hence, I need a blow torch.

At the size suggested in the recipe, this makes a thin tart, but it’s rich enough that you won’t feel the pieces are lacking in depth. This is best served just after being bruleed. The maple will be fragrant in the still warm, smooth custard, and the flavor of the vanilla pastry blends well with it. The crunch of the sugar on top contrasts nicely too. Now, what other ways are there for maple to find its way into dessert?

Maple Brulee Tart
(from Donna Hay magazine)
2 eggs, plus 2 extra yolks
½ cup sugar
¼ cup pure maple syrup
1 cup milk
1 cup half and half
superfine sugar for sprinkling (*Note: I’ve found that organic sugar doesn’t caramelize as well for a brulee, so I use conventional superfine sugar.)

vanilla pastry:
1 2/3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon sugar
¼ teaspoon baking powder
13 tablespoons cold butter, cut into cubes
1/3 cup iced water
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

-Start with the vanilla pastry. Place flour, sugar, and baking powder in the bowl of a food processor and pulse to combine. Add the butter cubes and pulse until the mixture is crumbly. With the motor running, slowly pour in the ice water and vanilla and process until the mixture forms a dough. Transfer to plastic wrap and chill for at least 30 minutes.

-Pre-heat oven to 325 degrees F. Roll out the pastry on a lightly floured surface and then place in an eleven inch, round tart pan. Place tart pan on a large baking sheet to make it easier to move tart pan in and out of oven, cover the surface of the pastry with parchment paper, and fill the tart with pie weights or dried beans. Blind bake for 15-20 minutes, remove from oven, remove parchment and pie weights, and then set aside.

- In a medium bowl, whisk together eggs, egg yolks, sugar, and maple syrup. Combine milk and half and half in a small saucepan over low heat. Heat milk mixture until just boiling, and then slowly pour it into bowl with egg mixture while whisking constantly. Allow to cool just a bit before pouring the custard into the blind baked crust, and place the tart back in the oven for 20-25 minutes or until just set in the center. Remove from oven and let cool.

-Sprinkled cooled tart with superfine sugar while pre-heating the broiler. Place tart under the broiler, and leave oven door ajar so you can watch as the sugar browns. Turn the tart to brown as evenly as possible. Or, use a kitchen blow torch to brown the sugar. Serve while still warm and enjoy the wonderfulness of maple syrup for dessert.
 

Mini Cranberry Meringue Pies

I thought this recipe was from last year. The image of these cute, little, mini pies had been on my mind since last winter when I vowed to attempt them when fresh, fall cranberries came around again next time. Actually, this first appeared in Living magazine in November 2006, but it did appear again in a special holidays publication last year. I had the 06 article tucked away in my files, and I pulled it out last week to finally try this. The pasty is a citrus version of a pate sucree I've made before with the addition of lemon and blood orange zest. It occurred to me that I should make a big batch of these mini pastry shells and keep them in the freezer to use as needed. They would come in especially handy when I have some leftover pumpkin puree like I probably will later this afternoon. In this case, those handy pastry cups were filled with thickened cranberry sauce that was made in two stages. First, cranberries were cooked, and the juice was strained from the berries. Second, that juice was combined with whole cranberries to make a sweet, tart, filling with pops of flavor. Fluffy, toasted meringue topped it off.

The pate sucree was cut into four-inch circles which were crimped and fitted into twelve standard muffin cups. Each cup was lined with a small square of parchment paper, filled with weights and baked for fifteen minutes. The weights and parchment were removed, and the cups were baked for another five minutes or so. Once cool, they were ready to be filled. For the filling, first, fresh cranberries were brought to a boil with sugar and water. They were simmered until the cranberries burst and then passed through a sieve to extract the juice. The recipe states the solids should be discarded, but I'm getting more and more militant about not wasting food, so I kept the cranberry solids and enjoyed them on plain yogurt for breakfast. Next, the cranberry juice was returned to a saucepan, and sugar, lemon and blood orange zest, salt, cinnamon, cloves, and more whole cranberries were added. This time, the cranberries were cooked over a lower heat to prevent them from bursting. They should just become soft. Cornstarch was whisked into a mixture of blood orange juice and water, and that was added to the cranberries and juice to thicken it. Once cooked and cooled a bit, the filling was divided among the pastry cups, and they were chilled until set for at least an hour. Last but not least, a meringue was whipped to glossy peaks, spooned onto each mini pie, and the tops were browned under the broiler in about a minute.

While trying to get these pies done in less time than I should have planned to spend on them, the extra step of straining cranberries and then adding more whole cranberries seemed a little fussy. In the end though, I see why it mattered. The thickened juice nicely suspended the softened, whole cranberries in a way that a standard cranberry sauce would not have done. That being said, for a quicker version, a thick, sweet cranberry sauce would work fine here. Also, I'm always up for a meringue topping, but Kurt suggested that whipped cream would have been just as good. Either way, these festive, seasonal treats have earned a trip from my temporary, to-try file to my permanent, keeper file.

Blueberry Pop-Tarts

Homemade pop-tarts had become just like sugar cookie bars. They were everywhere, calling out to me, insisting that I try making them. There are several different recipes, and really, you can make any pie pasty and cut it into rectangles and fill them however you’d like. I decided to follow the Bon Appetit recipe from last April’s issue. It’s a simple enough process, but you do need to make sure your rectangles are pretty similar in size so they can be sandwiched and crimped together easily. This particular dough is a sticky one, so if you make this one, refrigerate or freeze the pieces for a few minutes between steps to make them more manageable. For a filling, I had just what I needed in the freezer. Last month, there were Texas blueberries in our CSA delivery, and I had cooked them with some lemon juice and cornstarch thinking they would eventually become a tart filling of some kind. You could also use your favorite jam or preserves from a jar for a filling. Then, you can wake up on a Saturday morning and have pop-tarts for breakfast while watching tv. I watched Anne Burrell on the FoodNetwork instead of the Smurfs, and these pop-tarts were on another level compared to ones from the box that I remember, but it was still a nostalgic Saturday morning.

So, I mentioned this dough was sticky. I actually rolled it between pieces of parchment paper. I left the parchment in place and cut it into big rectangles and let that chill for a bit. Then, I measured and cut the final, smaller rectangles and removed the parchment as I filled each tart. For pastry rectangles that were about five inches by three inches, you should use a tablespoon and a half of filling. Pressing the edges with a fork worked better on tarts that had been chilled first, but dipping the fork in flour helped it not to stick to the dough as well. Last, each tart was pierced with a skewer a few times to allow steam to escape while baking. The formed tarts should be placed in the freezer for at least two hours before baking, and they go straight to the oven from the freezer.

The Bon Appetit version shows the pop-tarts dusted with confectioner’s sugar. That’s one option. I also considered going all the way with a white frosting and sprinkles. In the end, I just brushed on an egg wash and sprinkled sanding sugar over the tarts before baking. The pastry was rich and flaky and the filling was fruity and just sweet enough. This could become a Saturday morning habit all over again.

Blackberry and Peach Crostata

When I saw the mixed berry crostata on LAtimes.com the other day, I started getting ideas. I had just bought some blackberries and peaches at the farmers’ market, and those two things are in season at the same time for good reason. I couldn’t wait to put them together in a simple, rustic kind of tart. The crostata dough from the LA Times is adapted from one by Nancy Silverton of Mozza. It’s a fairly straightforward pastry, but it includes a tablespoon of vanilla extract. I was sold. I’ve added nuts or lemon zest to dough before, but I had never thought of adding vanilla to pastry. With fresh, ripe, juicy peaches and just picked blackberries, a nice crust to contain them is all you really need.

I did go to the trouble of peeling the peaches this time although I often leave skins intact. It’s a simple procedure of bringing a pot of water to a boil, placing the peaches in the boiling water for about 45 seconds, and then transferring the peaches to ice water. Then, the skins slip right off when pulled with a paring knife. The peeled and sliced peaches and washed and dried blackberries were mixed with a little sugar and some cornstarch, and the filling was ready. The crostata dough was made in a food processor with all-purpose flour, cake flour, sugar, and salt, and chopped, cold butter was pulsed into that mixture. It was actually pulsed to a finer state than I usually mix a pastry dough. It was suggested to process until it resembled moist cornmeal. Ice water and vanilla extract were added, and then the dough was wrapped in plastic and chilled for a bit. For rolling out the dough, it was recommended that it be left kind of thick which is a good idea when juicy, fresh fruit is involved. The edges were rolled in over the fruit, and I brushed on an egg wash and sprinkled coarse sugar on the dough. The crostata baked for about 40 to 45 minutes until the fruit juices were bubbly and the crust was golden.

Sure, some ice cream or whipped cream wouldn’t be out of place here at all, but I was so excited about my first use of blackberries and peaches this season that I enjoyed the crostata with no added embellishment. This wasn’t a flaky, layered kind of pastry crust, but it was golden and crisp on top and tender in the center. With the flavor of vanilla throughout, it was a fine vehicle for the mixed fruit and thickened juices. If you have some ripe berries or other seasonal fruit on hand, consider using it in a crostata with this pastry dough, or try adding vanilla to your usual dough recipe for lovely added flavor.

Blueberry Crumble Tart

I always bring a few snacks to an annual Oscars party we attend, and for last Sunday’s party, I wanted to sort of work with a theme. I was certain it was going to be an Avatar-dominated Oscars so I was thinking ‘blue.’ I couldn’t have been more wrong, and obviously, I didn’t do so well with my Oscars betting this year, but at least this blueberry crumble tart was tasty. The recipe is from The Modern Baker, where it’s called a blueberry crumble pie. I wanted the cut pieces to be a simple, square form that would be easy to pick up at the party, so I baked it in a rectangular tart pan. I was also a little worried about how runny and gooey the filling would be, and to make it firmer and easier to handle, I used a little extra cornstarch. That part of my plan came together well. The pieces were easy to cut and easy to pick up without the filling running all over the place. At least that prediction worked out for me.

The tart crust was made from the sweet tart dough recipe in the same book. That dough includes an egg, an egg yolk, and baking powder in addition to the butter, flour, and sugar. It was mixed in a food processor and then wrapped in plastic and left to rest in the refrigerator for 20 minutes or so. It was more dough than I needed for my rectangular tart pan, so I also made a small, free-form rustic tart to leave at home. The filling was made with frozen blueberries, sugar, a tablespoon more of cornstarch than the four tablespoon suggested, and nutmeg. After cooking and thickening, cold butter was stirred into the blueberry filling mixture. The ample crumb topping was made by combining flour, baking powder, cinnamon, brown sugar, and melted butter. Once folded together, it was left to sit while prepping the tart shell and filling. Often it’s tempting to double the quantity of a crumb topping, but I can tell you this recipe made plenty and doubling it would have been way too much. Once the filling was spooned into the shell and the crumble topping was sprinkled on top, the assembled tart baked for 40 minutes.

The crust was flaky and golden and lovely, and the filling was just firm enough and full of blueberry goodness, but the crumble topping was my favorite part. Those nuggets of buttery, crunchy, fun were a delight on top of the tart. It could have been almost any fruit in the filling because in the end, the blueness of it didn’t matter at all, but I’m glad that concept led me to this tart anyway.

Citrus Tart

When I was growing up, I didn’t get to see lemons growing on trees. No, in Illinois, citrus was certainly not a local crop. However, several years later when I moved to Austin and started gardening, one of the first things I wanted to add to my garden was a lemon tree. It has to be container grown here because we have to move it inside when we have below-freezing temperatures. But, for most of the year, I get to see a lemon tree in my own backyard. Actually, I now get to see two lemon trees. My friend Kirsten, an amazing garden designer and gardener, entrusted her lemon tree to me when she and her husband moved from Austin to Edmonton. Happily, her tree is still doing fine (even though my gardening skills pale in comparison). Both trees produce Meyer lemons which can take almost an entire year to mature from blossoms. The lemons become ripe and ready to pick in late December or early January. I seem to have good luck with lots of lemons one year and then not so many the next. This was a good year. I picked plenty of lemons for limoncello, lots of vinaigrettes, and more. Since only the peels are used for limoncello, I had a couple of cups of lemon juice in my freezer waiting for inspiration to strike when I saw this citrus tart in the January issue of Living. The tart combines lemon and lime juices which seemed perfect since the lime would sharpen up the sweeter Meyer lemon juice.

This tart’s crust is a press in the pan type made with butter, flour, salt, ground almonds, confectioners’ sugar, and an egg yolk. I used almond meal that I had on hand rather than grinding blanched almonds in a food processor. The dough was a little sticky, but it was simple enough to press it into the tart pan. Then, it was placed in the freezer for 20 minutes. The crust was baked for about 23 minutes and left to cool while the filling was made. Eggs, sugar, salt, fresh lemon juice, lemon zest, fresh lime juice, and cream were mixed and then poured into the cooled crust. The tart went back into the oven, at a reduced temperature, for about 25 minutes or until set. I had to leave mine a few extra minutes until the center was no longer jiggly.

I whipped some leftover mascarpone with cream and a pinch or so of sugar, and my goodness, can someone please tell me why I had never before added mascarpone to whipped cream? That is definitely one of the most delicious concoctions, and it made a very nice topping for the tart. The crust was buttery and rich and possibly just a tad too rich and too sweet for me, although I didn’t hear any complaints. Still, I might opt for a standard shortbread crust or even a pate brisee next time I make this, but I won’t change a thing about the filling. The mix of lime and Meyer lemon juices was fresh and bright and just enough sugar was added, and of course, picking the lemons yourself makes them taste even better.

Tomato and Cantal Tart

The title of this post is a lie. That is the correct title of the tart found in The Modern Baker which I continue to enjoy, but my tart was made with other cheeses. I went to Whole Foods in search of some cantal cheese, and they had none. What they did have was an incredibly helpful person at the cheese counter. I really should have learned his name. He offered me multiple samples of alternate cheeses, and when I was still unsure, he went in the back to grab a cheese reference book. Together, we looked at the description of cantal, and I really should have learned the title of that book. At any rate, the person whose name I don’t know read aloud from the book, with a title I don’t know, a description of cantal’s flavors. This book suggested that the flavor of cantal is best copied by blending laguiole and cheddar. Laguiole is an earthy, slightly salty and pleasantly pungent cheese, and a clothbound cheddar from Grafton Village lended a calmer milkiness with less of an edge. I was offered samples of each and was finally ready to make a decision. In the end, I spent an inordinate amount of time choosing some cheese for such a simple tart.

The no-roll, flaky dough as it’s called was made in a food processor, and it was patted into a tart pan. The dough was chilled in the pan overnight, and it could have sat in the refrigerator for a couple of days. Once I was ready to bake, some dijon mustard was spread on the bottom of the uncooked crust. The cheeses I selected were shredded, and half of the shredded pile was placed on the mustard. Sliced heirloom tomatoes went on the cheese, and the remaining cheese was placed on the tomatoes. Only black pepper seasoned the tart because Malgieri explains in the recipe that salt could cause the tomatoes to become watery while baking. The tart baked for about 30 minutes and then a little extra virgin olive oil was drizzled on top.

Before serving, fresh basil leaves were to be placed on the tart. You’ll want to let the tart cool some or the basil leaves will quickly turn brownish black. This tart of few ingredients is all about the ripeness and perfection of the tomatoes. The crust, baked to a barely-golden yet crisp state and the carefully selected cheeses were really there to accent the tomatoes. While I hesitated too long and clearly fretted about my final cheese decision, the kind man at Whole Foods said in an encouraging voice “you know what, the tart is going to be delicious.” And, you know what, he was right.

Strawberry Raspberry Frangipane Tart

Yesterday, I mentioned the potluck picnic I attended over the weekend, and this is the tart I brought along with the sugar cookies. For this food blogger event, I wanted to stick to recipes that I had made enough times to be sure of them. This tart isn’t quite as tried and true as the cookies, but it’s been in my binder full of keepers for several years. This comes from the very early days of the Foodnetwork. I believe this was from Cooking Live with Sara Moulton, and it was presented as just a strawberry frangipane tart. I added the raspberries, and really any combination of summer fruits would be delicious. This is an ideal tart for a picnic because there is no pastry cream filling and no need to refrigerate it.

A pate brisee was made first and fitted into a tart pan. The pastry was topped with the frangipane which is made from softened butter, sugar, an egg, finely ground blanched almonds, almond extract, almond-flavored liqueur, and flour. The tart shell with frangipane was then baked for about 40 minutes. After it cooled, it was topped with sliced strawberries and raspberries. And, the last step was to brush on melted and strained strawberry jam. In the past, I’ve always served this with whipped cream, but I thought the cream wouldn’t hold up well at a picnic and left it behind this time.

The frangipane seems to become part of the bottom crust but offers its hint of almond flavor. The fruit is the real star, though, so it has to be ripe and juicy. I used some organic strawberries that had nice, red color throughout when sliced, and the organic raspberries didn’t need any help in looking like little jewels. I love the sheen of a jam topped tart, and the strawberry jam here added a nice reddish glow. This is a great dessert to make several hours in advance as it holds up well. Also on the dessert table at the picnic was a delicious lemon tart made by Anna of Cookie Madness. There was so much good food that day. I’m still thinking about all of it.

Long Awaited Loquat Tart

We’ve had our loquat tree for four years or so, and every year the birds get to eat the fruit before I do. However, thanks to last year’s abundant rain, we had more loquats than ever this year, and I finally got to harvest some. The loquat (Eriobotrya japonica) lives in our backyard with several palms, bananas, ferns, and bamboo plants. It’s evergreen and blooms in the fall and winter so that the fruit is ripe in the spring. Picking the fruit and cooking with it was very exciting because I’ve looked forward to doing so since my first taste of loquat. On a trip to Bermuda in 2002, my dessert one evening was goat cheese-cheesecake with loquat jam. Since then, knowing that loquats grow easily in Austin, I’ve been hoping to grow my own and cook with them. Maybe this isn’t exciting for those who have lived with loquat trees their whole lives, but it’s a warm climate delight for me. They were very easy to peel, and the seeds popped out with no problem. I cooked them down with a little water and honey. They didn’t thicken as quickly as apricots, so I assume they have less pectin. Their flavor is mild; not too sweet and not too tart. At last, I had my very own loquats in a tart of my making.

In hindsight, the look of the tart would have been improved by a few carefully placed raspberries on top.