Tarting it up

 

Note: posts in this blog originally appeared in my column, Amuse-bouche, in the Napa Valley Register. This one is from March 2008.

 

I was warned the recipe I selected for last month’s cookbook club meeting was labor intensive, but did I listen?

It was “Lemon Lover’s Lemon Tart,” so I couldn’t resist. I love lemons — and tarts. And the picture of red-sprinkled lemons topping a perfect crust was gorgeous. So I signed up for it.

Our book club idea is simple. The host picks the cookbook, everyone gets a copy and selects a dish to prepare for the meeting — which isn’t so much a meeting as an absolutely fabulous dinner party. During dinner we each describe our experience with the dish we made. There’s only one rule. In order to properly judge the book, we all pledge (much as it goes against the grain), to follow the recipe.

The day before the meeting, I read the instructions all the way through, and the tart looked pretty straightforward. A crust, a creamy filling, fruit on top, glaze and garnish (the red sprinkles). Sure that was a lot of steps for one small tart, but nothing I couldn’t handle.

I started with the garnish. Turns out the red sprinkles were actually lemon zest, candied in grenadine. The recipe called for cutting the zest in julienne, candying it, then chopping it finely. No problem. I grabbed my zester and quickly had a pile of long skinny lemon rind shreds. I dropped them into the simmering grenadine and they soon turned a lovely red.

The next step was to drain them, let them cool, and chop them.

Hmm. Somehow. The grenadine had gotten quite sticky. I drained off as much as I could, cooled the rind and set about chopping it. But it wouldn’t chop. It was kind of gummy, and just slid around under the knife. And the pieces were all stuck together. In desperation, I got out the kitchen scissors and cut the mass into bits, attacking it over and over again.

I checked the recipe, and it said this was going to be sprinkled on top of the tart. Huh? The pieces were now tiny, but they kept adhering to one another. If I tried to sprinkle them, I was going to end up with misshapen lumps and clumps. In desperation I spread the gooey mass out on a sheet of waxed paper in the freezer. After it froze, I placed another sheet of waxed paper on top and pounded it with a hammer. Success! Garnish ready to sprinkle. And it had only taken two hours.

Next, I made the filling. It was fairly simple — egg yolks, lemon juice, lemon zest, sugar, butter and vast amounts of whisking over slow heat for what felt like an eternity. Only after it was done did I realize that it was virtually identical to the lemon curd I made as holiday gifts this year. Too bad — I still had two jars of it sitting in the fridge that really needed to be used up.

I stretched my tired biceps, and moved on to the crust. It was a classic sweet pastry recipe, with a twist — it started by scraping the innards of an entire vanilla bean into the mix. In case you wondered, it takes forever to scrape out all those little seeds. (And have you priced vanilla beans lately? Ka-ching.)

Anyway, time-consuming and extremely expensive crust made and baked, it was time to attack the fruit topping — sections of lemon candied in sugar syrup. I got out my small, serrated knife and started to peel away the rind.

Have you ever tried to section a lemon? Grapefruits are easy. Oranges aren’t too bad. But lemons? Try it. Let me know if you figure out the secret. I sure don’t know it.

Three hours and a dozen lemons later, I looked at the minuscule pile of intact sections and realized I was going to need more. Fortunately, I have a lemon tree.

After another hour (and a dozen more lemons), when it finally looked like I had enough, I made the sugar syrup. Following the instructions exactly, I cooked the sections in small batches for a couple of minutes per batch, then drained them on a rack.

Finally, I was ready to assemble the tart!

I spread the chilled lemon curd over the crust. Carefully arranged the fruit sections on top in concentric circles. Brushed it all with strained, melted apricot preserves. Sprinkled on the weird red-colored bits of rind. Dusted the edges with confectioner’s sugar. It was stunning — just as pretty as the picture, and almost worth the seven hours of prep time.

I proudly took it to the dinner, and everyone oohed and aahed. And then we served it.

It was a tart lover’s tart all right. Seriously tart. After all that work, those “candied” lemons were sour enough to cause some major puckers. You had to be the kind of lemon lover who likes to eat the fruit raw. For this I dirtied every pot in my kitchen?

And talk about truth in advertising (or lack thereof)! Did I mention the title of this month’s cookbook?

It was called “Simply French.”

 

* * * * * *

 

I had a lot of time to think while I was baking the tart, and mostly what I thought about was ways to make it easier. So here is my version — which actually tasted better, and was every bit as pretty. I used the same pastry, but instead of a vanilla bean, substituted vanilla paste (a great pantry basic from World Spice in the Oxbow market). For filling, I used the homemade lemon curd in my fridge — but you could easily substitute the prepared kind from the store. For fruit topping, I sliced whole lemons crosswise on the mandoline (it took two minutes), and thoroughly cooked them in the sugar syrup. The lemons were already shiny, so I skipped the jam. For the garnish I sprinkled red sugar (the kind you use on Christmas cookies).

Now that’s what I call simple. And by the way, delicious.

 

Lazy Lemon Lover’s Tart

(adapted from Patricia Wells, “Simply French,”)

 

Crust

4 Tbsp. butter, room temperature, plus butter to grease the pan

1/2 tsp. vanilla bean paste

1/2 cup confectioner’s sugar, sifted

2 egg yolks, room temperature

1 cup flour, sifted

pinch of salt

 

Filling

1 jar lemon curd*

 

Topping

2 whole lemons

1 1/4 cups sugar

1 cup water

Red decorating sugar (optional)

 

Blend the butter and vanilla paste in the food processor until smooth and light. Add the sugar and process, then the egg yolks. Once everything is well blended, add the flour and a pinch of salt, and pulse several times just until the flour is incorporated. (Don’t keep going until it turns into a ball.) If it is very wet, you may need to add another tablespoon or two of flour.

Scrape the dough from the container onto a piece of waxed paper, and pat it into a flat disk. Wrap and chill for at least an hour, or overnight.

Butter the inside of a 9-inch tart pan with a removable bottom.

Roll the dough out between two sheets of waxed paper, into a circle roughly 11-12 inches across. Using the tart pan as a template, cut out a dough circle the size of the bottom of the pan, and place it in the pan. (This is a very shallow tart, so you will be building the edge rather than taking the dough all the way up the side of the pan like you would with a pie.) To make the edge, take the dough trimmings and, using your fingertips, roll them into skinny cylinders about 1/2 inch across. Brush the edges of the pastry disk with water, and place a single row of the cylinders around the outside edge. Use a bit of water to attach segments together. Then take a chopstick or similar rounded object and, working on a diagonal (rather than perpendicular to the edge of the pan) gently crimp the top of the pastry edge all the way round, to make a decorative edge.

Chill, covered, for another hour, using the time to make the fruit topping (see below).

To bake, preheat the oven to 375 F. With a fork, puncture the bottom of the dough all over. Bake for 5 minutes and check. If areas are bubbling up, puncture them again with the fork, and continue baking. Check frequently. It should be done in about 15 more minutes, when it is golden brown, but it will overcook quickly.

To make the topping, thoroughly wash the lemons and slice them crosswise with a mandoline, discarding the end pieces. Slightly thicker slices work best — the rind should form a full circle.

Combine the water and sugar in a saucepan over moderate heat, and bring to a simmer. Add the fruit slices, return the syrup to a simmer and cook for 10 minutes. Then turn off the heat and let the lemons cool in the syrup.

To make the tart, spread a layer of lemon curd all over the bottom of the cooled, baked crust. Fish the lemon slices out of the syrup and drain them, then arrange them over the top of the filling. Sprinkle with red sugar. Keep chilled until ready to amaze your guests.

Serves 8