Prune and Armagnac Tart

When trying to find a dessert that would go well with our beef and prune tagine, I turned to my new favorite cookbook: A Year in My Kitchen by Skye Gyngell. Even though I have more cookbooks than it's possible to regularly cook from (I started a spreadsheet of the recipes I'd like to make, their key ingredients, and the books they're in. I managed to record all that for one of book), I have only 3 or 4 that I'll really turn to for inspiration, and Skye's book has already increased that number of core books to 4 or 5. Since the book is arranged seasonally, I optimisticly turned to 'spring' hoping I could speed the season toward me with my choice of recipe.


And so the prune and armagnac tart. This is a very classic French flavor combination, and I was still in a bit of a reverie from a friend's description earlier in the week of his home-made prune and armagnac ice cream. With prunes in the main course as well, I thought it would be a nice flavor arc through the meal. With two times the prunes initially needed, though, I actually had to go out and buy another packet of prunes - something I didn't think I'd be doing until I was in my 80's and afflicted by a certain sluggishness.


The prunes I bought were not pitted which turned out to be something of a poor choice since my hands were hunched in cutting and pitting position while covered in sticky prune goo for what felt like much longer than it was. My patience grew short, and I'm not known in the A&N household for being The Patron Saint of Patience to begin with. The pastry recipe for the tart was excellent - crispy, subtly sweet and nicely buttery, and kept well for a couple of days. The pastry combined well with the prunes, which tasted like a rich jam. Next time, I would probably double the almond mixture on top since I do like my almond topping and I didn't get much of the sense of the orange blossom water. Other than the torture of pitting the prunes, it was an easy but sophisticated dessert to make, and is very open to being tweaked with different flavors and combinations.



Both Pastry and Tart from Skye Gyngell's A Year in My Kitchen

Pastry

• 250g plan flour
• pinch salt
• 125g unsalted butter, shilled and cut into cubes
• 25g caster sugar
• 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
• finely grated zest of 1/2 lemon
• 1 egg
• 25-40 ml ice-cold water

1. Sift the flour and salt into a mound on a cool surface.
2. Scatter the butter, sugar, vanilla and lemon zest over the flour, then toss the ingredients together using a knife or pastry scraper.
3. make a hollow in the middle and add the egg and water and toss again.
4. Gather the dough close to you and, with the heel of your hand, work it away in a quick movement. Keep bringing the dough back to you and working it until it is evenly combined (don't worry if little bits of butter show through, it is important not to overwork the dough).
5. Once the dough has come together, continue to knead to a minute or so, very lightly.
6. Wrap the pastry in greaseproof paper and chill for 20 minutes (no longer or it will be difficult to roll).

Prune and Armagnac Tart

• The pastry recipe above (already halved)
• 300g good quality prunes
• 30 g unsalted butter
• 2 eggs
• 120g caster sugar
• few drops vanilla extract
• 1 Tbsp orange flower water
• 5 Tbsp double cream
• 3 Tbsp ground almond
• 3 Tbsp armagnac (or brandy) to drizzle
• icing sugar, to dust
• creme fraiche, to serve

1. Roll out the pastry on a lightly floured surface to about 3mm/just over an inch thick.
2. Lift the pastry carefully and place over a 25cm/10 inch flan tin. Press the pastry into the sides and bottom of the tin, then use your rolling pin rolled on top to cut the excess pastry off.
3. Prick the base all over with a fork, then place in the fridge to rest for 30 minutes.
4. Preheat the oven to 180C / 375F.
5. If not already pitted, pit the prunes and place in a bowl. Cover with hot water and leave to soak for 10 minutes and then drain.
6. Melt the butter and allow to cool slightly.
7. When the half hour is up, line the pastry tin with greaseproof paper and fill with baking beans in order to blind-bake the pastry.
8. Bake for 15 minutes. Remove the beans and bake for another 5 or until the pastry is golden, then remove from the oven and allow to cool.
9. Increase the oven temperature to 190 / 390.
10. In a large bowl, combine the eggs, sugar, vanilla, orange flower water, cream, and almonds. Whisk together lightly until evenly blended, then stir in the melted butter.
11. Scatter the prunes evenly over the pastry base, then ladle the whisked egg mixture over the top.
12. Carefully place on the middle shelf of the oven and immediately turn the temperature back down to 180 / 375.
13. Bake for 25 - 30 minutes until the topping is golden brown on the surface and slightly wobbly in the center.
14. Remove from the oven, and while still warm drizzle with the armagnac.
15. When the armagnac is absorbed, lightly dust with icing sugar. Serve either warm or cold.

The Daring Bakers: Lemon Meringue Pie

When I joined the Daring Bakers, Mr A&N was quite excited on his own behalf. Guarantee baked goods, at least once a month, is something easy to see the bright side of. There was a burning question he had, though. “When will you get to make me a lemon meringue pie?” As the asking of this question implies, lemon meringue is his favorite sweet treat. “Honey,” I gently explained “of all the baked goods in this world, pies and cookies and cakes and breads, what do you think the chances are of us having to bake a lemon meringue pie?”

This month the Daring Bakers have made a lemon meringue pie.

The recipe is a Wanda Beaver recipe, as chosen by Jen at The Canadian Baker. The last time we made lemon meringue in our house was last Valentine’s Day, when Mr A&N wanted to give me a treat (by baking his favorite dessert, mind you). Instead of grabbing the vanilla to flavor the meringue with, though, he chucked in a generous spalsh of red food coloring to the egg white mixture. The resulting pink meringue was valentines- appropriate, as it turned out, but it did but us off lemon meringue for a short while.

The crust in this meringue, for starters, was addictive. It is a very simple sweet crust , is worthy of being given pride of place in your favorite pie recipe. There was more than enough pastry for a full-sized pie as well as a half-dozen mini-pies, and the left over pastry pieces were baked (and eaten) as if they were butter cookies. I had a minor pastry mishap when cutting it for the large pie dish and not allowing enough coverage for it to climb up and cling over the sides of the dish. The result was that when I blind baked it, despite weighing it down, it shrunk on me. I first thought the crust was a write-off, but then thought of transferring the still-warm crust to a slightly smaller tin and breaking off any overhang to enjoy as more butter cookies. This, surprisingly, worked well.

The mishap became more dangerous when Mr A&N, not noticing how I had turned the situation from tragedy to triumph in a few easy steps, thought that we were still writing the crust off and took too much liberty with the amount of crust he broke off and ate. With my back turned, he broke off a whole side of pie crust and was blithely nibbling it when I caught him and let him know my opinion of his actions (with words that could best be expressed with these symbols: ??!?**&$@!!!). Having already lost and regained this pastry crust once, I didn’t want to lose it again, so decided to go through with making the pie and simply earmarking that side for MR A&N to eat – he should be the one to feel the consequences of his actions.


The filling and meringue were an excellent double-act: the tart, slightly acerbic lemon with just the hint of sweetness, being smoothed and coddled by the light and airy, ever-marshmallowy meringue enclosing it. It was the Burns and Allen of the pie world. Since we enjoy tart and tangy desserts in our house, we both felt that the pie would have been just as welcome a dessert without the meringue on top, but it’s hard to think of what to do with those 5 left-over egg whites other than make meringue.

The proof of this pudding was certainly in the eating – I knew it would be a hit with Mr A&N but the bigger surprise was how his father responded to it. A man who loves his food but considers dessert a useless blockade between the main course and the cheese board asked for a polite initial slice of pie, and then followed up the next night’s dinner with a declaration that he wouldn’t have seconds of his meal so that he could have a slice of the lemon meringue. It is a palate-cleansing pleaser for those who don’t mind a bit of sharp with their sweetness and can appreciate a good crust when they bite into it.


Lemon Meringue Pie
From "Wanda's Pie in the Sky" - makes 1 10 inch pie

For the Crust:
3/4 cup (180 mL) cold butter; cut into ½-inch (1.2 cm) pieces
2 cups (475 mL) all-purpose flour
1/4 cup (60 mL) granulated sugar
1/4 tsp (1.2 mL) salt
1/3 cup (80 mL) ice water

For the Filling:
2 cups (475 mL) water
1 cup (240 mL) granulated sugar
1/2 cup (120 mL) cornstarch
5 egg yolks, beaten
1/4 cup (60 mL) butter
3/4 cup (180 mL) fresh lemon juice
1 tbsp (15 mL) lemon zest
1 tsp (5 mL) vanilla extract

For the Meringue:
5 egg whites, room temperature
1/2 tsp (2.5 mL) cream of tartar
1/4 tsp (1.2 mL) salt
1/2 tsp (2.5 mL) vanilla extract
3/4 cup (180 mL) granulated sugar

To Make the Crust:
Make sure all ingredients are as cold as possible. Using a food processor or pastry cutter and a large bowl, combine the butter, flour, sugar and salt.Process or cut in until the mixture resembles coarse meal and begins to clump together. Sprinkle with water, let rest 30 seconds and then either process very briefly or cut in with about 15 strokes of the pastry cutter, just until the dough begins to stick together and come away from the sides of the bowl. Turn onto a lightly floured work surface and press together to form a disk. Wrap in plastic and chill for at least 20 minutes.

Allow the dough to warm slightly to room temperature if it is too hard to roll. On a lightly floured board (or countertop) roll the disk to a thickness of 1/8 inch (.3 cm). Cut a circle about 2 inches (5 cm) larger than the pie plate and transfer the pastry into the plate by folding it in half or by rolling it onto the rolling pin. Turn the pastry under, leaving an edge that hangs over the plate about 1/2 inch (1.2 cm). Flute decoratively. Chill for 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 350ºF (180ºC). Line the crust with foil and fill with metal pie weights or dried beans. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes. Carefully remove the foil and continue baking for 10 to 15 minutes, until golden. Cool completely before filling.

To Make the Filling:
Bring the water to a boil in a large, heavy saucepan. Remove from the heat and let rest 5 minutes. Whisk the sugar and cornstarch together. Add the mixture gradually to the hot water, whisking until completely incorporated. Return to the heat and cook over medium heat, whisking constantly until the mixture comes to a boil. The mixture will be very thick. Add about 1 cup (240 mL) of the hot mixture to the beaten egg yolks, whisking until smooth. Whisking vigorously, add the warmed yolks to the pot and continue cooking, stirring constantly, until mixture comes to a boil. Remove from the heat and stir in butter until incorporated. Add the lemon juice, zest and vanilla, stirring until combined. Pour into the prepared crust. Cover with plastic wrap to prevent a skin from forming on the surface, and cool to room temperature.

To Make the Meringue:
Preheat the oven to 375ºF (190ºC). Using an electric mixer beat the egg whites with the cream of tartar, salt and vanilla extract until soft peaks form. Add the sugar gradually, beating until it forms stiff, glossy peaks. Pile onto the cooled pie, bringing the meringue all the way over to the edge of the crust to seal it completely. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes, or until golden. Cool on a rack. Serve within 6 hours to avoid a soggy crust.

Apple and Pumpkin Pies

In my family, Thanksgiving and Christmas are a very similar affair, culinarily speaking. That's not a complaint, please note. The recurring themes are turkey (mainly because I demand it - I can't get enough of the meat, and have eaten myself into a turkey coma on more than one occasion), stuffing, some form of potatoes, and pie. Pie is almost always pumpkin, made by the dear Mrs. Smith. As much as I insist on turkey showing up twice a year, my father insists on frozen pumpkin pie. My brother and I have dared to try to make it from fresh and serve it instead, only to be threatened with removal from the will for the betrayal of switching pies on my father (well, not really, but he was rather upset and forbade us from denying him the frozen variety again).


In the UK, pumpkin pies are slightly harder to find, either the fresh bakery or frozen variety. That doesn't cause too much strain since I prefer to make my own, and once I'm armed with my trusty tins of pumpkin (thank you Waitrose), the hardest part of making the pie is deciding how indebted I want the flavor to be to Mrs. Smith's. Which, as it turns out, is my absolute standard for how pumpkin pies should taste. I suppose I've been indoctrinated as much as my father has, I'm just more stubborn and will make it from scratch in order to make it taste like the frozen. Still, that's some damn fine pumpkin pie.

Apple pies are a close second on the holiday pie-eating favorites list. It was for the sake of apple pies that I made my first pastry, and honed my technique (as it is). I've been making apple pies and crumbles for years now, though I still tweak my apple recipe each time I make it. I currently like to sautee up my apples for a couple of minutes, accompanied with a glug of amaretto liquer and the occasional handful of raisins if I'm feeling in a German, strudel-like mood.


I had a request to make an apple pie this week for Anne, the grandmother of my just-baptized godson Matthew. The pie was to be the dessert at the christening party, although I wasn't under any delusion that the pie was meant for anyone other than Anne. Sadly, I was hit by a bug this weekend and Mr. A&N rightly declared that I couldn't/shouldn't/wouldn't be handling foodstuffs unless I was happy with possibly infecting the whole party. So Anne didn't get her apple pie, for which I can say: stupid sickness bug. I have promised to make it for her the next time she's over from Ireland, but shall in the mean time post the recipe here (along with a picture of baby Matthew, the most gorgeousest baby I've had the privilege of blowing raspberries onto).


Pastry Crust
Makes enough for 1 10" crust; double if making apple pie or any other covered pie

• 1 C flour
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 70 g / 1/3 C shortening (Crisco in the US, Cookeen in the UK)
• 1 1/3 Tbs butter
• (optional: ground cinnamon or nutmeg)
• apprx 1/8 C ice cold water

1. Cut the flour, salt, shortening and butter in together until the mixture resembles coarse corn meal. I like to add in 1/2 tsp of cinnamon or a few shavings of fresh nutmeg in with the flour mixture in order to give the pastry a bit of the taste of the pie.
2. Add water into the pastry a bit at a time. You should use enough water to gather up all the dry bits of the flour mixture, but the pastry should not be wet or tacky.
3. Cover and allow to sit in the fridge for at least 1/2 hour.
4. After chilled, roll out the pastry on a floured surface so that it's big enough to fit in the base of the pie dish.
5. Cut off any excess dough (if making the pumpkin pie, you can cut back to the top of the rim of the dish; for the apple pie, leave a little bit more overhang).
6. Line the dish with baking paper and fill with weighted baking beans (or, the cheap option of dried beans) and blind bake for 10 minutes at 175 degrees C.

Pumpkin Pie (bake at 220 C, reducing to 175 C)

• 1 1/2 C mashed pumpkin (about 4-6lb fresh pumpkin roasted, peeled, and drained or 1 15 oz tin)
• 1 14 oz/400g tin sweetened condensed milk
• 2 eggs, yolks and white separated
• 2 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1 Tbs allspice
• 1 tsp fresh ground ginger
• 3/4 of 1 fresh nutmeg, ground
• 1 tsp salt

1. Combine the pumpkin, condensed milk, egg yolks, all the spices and salt, and mix well.
2. Beat the egg whites until fluffy and with soft peaks
3. Fold in the egg whites into the pumpkin mixture (if you have trouble with folding - like I do - stir in about 1/4 of the egg whites until well combined, and then fold in the rest of the whites. It will be much easier).
4. Pour mixture into blind-baked crust, and bake for 15 minutes at 220 C. Then reduce the temperature to 175 and bake for another 40 minutes.

Apple Pie

• 8 average sized apples (cooking apples are recommended though since these can be quite big, 4-5 will probably do)
• 1/4 C flour
• 1/2 C light brown sugar
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• 1 Tbs butter
• 1/3 C almond-flavored liquor

1. Peel and slice the apples into thick chunks (about 1/2 inch in width).
2. Place sliced apples in a bowl, into which you'll add the flour, brown sugar, and cinnamon. Sire well and allow to sit for 1/2 hour.
3. Heat the butter in a frying pan, and add in the apple slices and any of the juices from the bowl.
4. Add the liquor, and sautee for 3-5 minutes until the liquid has thickened a bit. The apples shouldn't begin to soften, the ingredients should simply come together and create something of a syrup.
5. Place into the pie tin with the blind-baked crust. Cover with another layer of rolled-out pastry, and cinch the top and bottom crusts together by folding the top edge under the bottom and creating the fluted-type pattern with your fingers as seen above.
6. Cut a hole into the top crust, making it seasonally decorative (such as a leaf or a turkey).
7. Brush the crust with milk or a beaten egg.
8. Bake for around 45 minutes at 175 C, taking care not to let the edges of the crust burn (if the edges do start browning too quickly, cover them in foil).