First Ever Plum Tart!

"I think I'm going to try making a plum tart. Frangipane's already done and all that."

"Frangipane... Is that what you're calling Pim these days?"

No, my darling smartass husband, that is not what I'm calling Pim these days, although I did get the recipe from her blog. Frangipane is, you may recall, that delicious blend of almonds, sugar, and butter that I concocted for my fig tart. I figured it would be equally yummy underneath some fresh plums, or at least worth a try, so that's what I did.

I still have no idea how to pronounce that word, by the way. I keep trying out different accents and emphases. You can imagine that up there said like Brad Pitt in "Inglourious Basterds," for example.

Anyway, so I let a portion of the stuff come to room temp from the fridge and sliced up four plums - which I got specifically because

they were labled Dragon Pluots in the store. (Advertising works!) I let them sit on paper towels while I was getting everything else ready, but I was still kind of nervous because I'd never made a cooked fresh fruit tart at all before, let alone one with such juicy components.

I did the same trick with my remaining sheet of puff pastry as with my fig tart, scoring a frame around the edge and docking the center so that it would form a sort of box around the fruit as it cooked. I spread the frangipane in the center and arranged the fruit prettily on top, said a prayer (which mostly went "please work, please work, please work"), and slipped it into the oven at 350 degrees.

I waited 30 minutes.

When I took it out, the edges looked done, but the center, as I had feared, was still very wet and pliable.

Boo!

I wrapped the edges in foil, adjusted the heat to 375, said another quick prayer, and put it back in the oven for another 15 minutes.

It worked!

The bottom was golden brown and sturdy, while the fruit still held its shape. The flavor is rich and intensely jammy, and the underlying sugar is just enough to temper the slight tartness of the fruit.

...And it's purtiful.

Seems to serve about nine.

caneles!!

Wow - I told you I made batter for these yummy french pastries, then left you hanging for over two weeks.

Sorry about that.

I did make the things, and the results were okay by the second batch, tho I've yet to experience the custardy center that is the stuff of legend. Aside from winging it with the mini muffin tins, I also preheated the tins as noted in the traditional recipe, tho this step wasn't mentioned in the recipe I was using. So perhaps they cooked quicker than they ordinarily would, and so the timer was ultimately useless.

The first batch had an aroma not unlike toasted marshmallows. And a similar appearance, too:

A little too dark, and definitely overdone, though Matt was certainly not complaining. I think this might be one case where he preferred the mistake.

I had enough batter left to try again, so I did:

The color was better this time around, and the center was definitely softer than the surrounding crust, but it was still firmly in "cake" category. Very good, nonetheless, but I don't think it's quite what French pastry chefs would call successful.

Third time's the charm?

We shall see.

I think it mainly comes down to the molds, or possibly to tweaking the recipe to work with the tools available to me.

Alternately, if anyone's wanting gift ideas for the coming holiday season, the traditional molds are only $20.00 a piece!

I need eighteen of them.

Get on that, will you?

pizza from the ground up:

Ever since my first foray into making mozzarella cheese, when I found a recipe for making pizza dough using whey left over from the cheese making process, an idea has rumbled around in my head:

What if I could make a pizza completely from scratch?

Cheese that I made myself.
Sauce that I made myself, from things growing in my own garden.
Homemade dough.
Toppings grown in my own garden, as well.

It's like a life-long dream that I didn't even realize I had until six months ago.

And although I can't believe it:

I did it!!!

The feeling of accomplishment is amazing.
I'm so proud I want to cry.

Is it perfect?
No.

But it's very close!

The cheese has sort of a weird texture as the curds were tiny and wet, and I couldn't get them to stretch properly. It's kind of a cross between a milky ricotta and a melty mozzarella. Which, as it turns out, is absolutely delicious on pizza.

It took forever to cook due to the moisture in the tomatoes, so the border crust was nicely browned before the center was even sort of done. I ended up tenting all but the center in foil, cranking the oven temp to 450 f, and cooking for 30 minutes longer than recommended.

Due to the cooking time and consistency, the cheese was a lovely toasty brown, and so was flipped for the above photo. :-p

But - the bottom line is... It's here. It's here, and I made it, and it's delicious. Delicious! All that cooking time really concentrated the tomato flavor, and the crust is flavorful and crispy (and thoroughly cooked) without being dry.

Pizza Margherita
I. Made. This.

Cracked.

As alluded to in a previous entry, an instigator has given me a recipe for crackers. I will not name any names, but her initials are Kina Reid. She is evil.

There's only so much yard work you can do in the rain (two blueberry bushes planted, ftw!), so I actually set about making these today. To my astonishment, the hardest part was rolling the dough to a consistent 1/8-inch thickness. Have you ever tried doing that in a poorly-lit kitchen? It's hard!

But somehow I got everything rolled out reasonably evenly, cut it into not-quite squarish shapes, shoved them in the oven, and ended up with some lovely rosemary-oat crackers.



These are absolutely fantastic when topped with some goat cheese, a drizzle of olive oil, and some freshly-cracked black pepper. You'll have to take my word that I actually did that, because my camera won't process a decent picture.


Recipe (from "Party Line with the Hearty Boys"):

Ingredients

* 2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
* 1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
* 2 teaspoons salt
* 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
* 1/2 teaspoon chopped rosemary leaves
* 3/4 teaspoon baking powder
* 1/2 stick (1/4 cup) cold unsalted butter, cut into bits
* 1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons milk

Directions:

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Put the oats into a food processor and pulse until finely chopped. Add flour, salt, pepper, rosemary, baking powder, and butter and pulse until mixture resembles coarse meal. Add milk and pulse until a dough forms about 15 seconds. On a lightly floured surface, roll out dough to 1/8-inch thick (about a 13-inch round) and cut out about 60 square oatcakes. Arrange oatcakes on baking sheets 1-inch apart and bake in middle of oven 12 to 15 minutes, or until lightly brown on the bottom. Transfer oatcakes to a rack and cool completely.

ambition.

I had big plans this weekend. Among other things, I was going to plant things in the garden, make chicken stock, roast vegetables, make cheese, write an entry about parsnips, and make crackers.

Yes, crackers!!

What was I thinking?

I know myself well enough to know better. I'd be doing good just to get two of those things accomplished. In the end, I decided on planting things and making stock. Largely because all making stock involves is throwing stuff in a pot, covering it with water, and letting it simmer for four hours.

Here are some of the things I planted:

Oregano, thyme, sage, basil, and rosemary. There's more work involved here than meets the eye, actually - yesterday morning the only things in our side bed were roses, the occasional sticker weed, and some bare dirt. Now there's a nice brick border, hardwood mulch, and some yummy herbs (and some roses, out of frame to the right).

I also planted jalepeno, tomato, and eggplant. Which means Eggplant Parmesan will be on the menu in a month or so.

Maybe I'll make crackers tonight....

I baked you a cake:

You're welcome!