My Darling One: Nine Years later

Every year is different, but one thing remains the same.  I feel more in July than I do in other months.  It's like having hypersensitive skin that prickles at the slightest brush--except the feeling is purely emotional.  Highs are higher, lows are lower and everything in between is just...more. It's just something I've gotten used to, for better or for worse.

While many of us reach out, lend a hand up, and invite in, the terribleness in my feeds is heartbreaking.  Thankfully, for every person who parrots mantras that propagate small-mindedness, prejudice, and entitlement, many more embody fairness, compassion, and inclusion. It's these positive traits that came easily to Michael.

As difficult as July is for me, it was made more so when an old friend of mine (and I think Michael's) passed away last week.   I met Stephanie when I was in uni and we were both part of a university-based theatre group.  We may have met before that when we were in Junior Achievement, but I can't be certain. She was a bright and passionate spirit.  She spent her final years in the Boston area.  She found her tribe and from what I can tell, she flourished.  I am so happy that she found that happiness before she passed.  She was only a few months older than I.

As I've often said, we pass only after we have learned what we need to learn, have taught what we need to teach, and we live on through those lessons we passed on.  Stephanie will live on.

In reading the threads marked and celebrated Stephanie's life, one food came up several times: butter tarts. Even though she was in the States for a while, she was still a Canadian girl at heart.  And I think, a Waterloo County girl (at least when it came to butter tarts).

As Canadians know, your hometown's butter tarts are the only real butter tarts.  The rest just aren't right.

When I read some of her American friends wanted to make them and posted links to other versions, I piped up with what we have here in Waterloo Region, as popularised by my friend, Edna Staebler. According to a friend who grew up in the County's rural areas, her version is reasonably faithful to how we do things here.

What makes a Waterloo County butter tart different from the others?  Well, I haven't made a formal study (if only because they are one of my migraine triggers) but I do know Edna's call for a rich pastry crust (not a flaky dough), raisins (divisive at the best of times), and do not call for corn syrup (anyone who's made a caramel or butterscotch sauce knows the role syrup plays...our tarts have the sought-after gel-gooeyness without it).

To remember Stephanie, I made some tarts, adapting Edna's rules so I could get a full dozen (the original used old measurements and made 8-10).

Would Michael approve?  Absolutely.  He'd complain that his diabetes meant he couldn't eat them, but those protests would be short-lived and he'd simply dial up the insulin.  As one does.

Butter Tarts, by Edna Staebler, from Food That Really Schmecks (adapted)

Yield: 12
Rich pastry, sufficient for 12 tarts (see below)
175g / 190ml / 0.75c brown sugar
145g/ 190ml / 0.75c  raisins
1 egg
40g /45ml /3Tbsp  Butter, melted
15ml / 1Tbsp Water
5ml / 1tsp vanilla
pinch of salt

Butter and flour the bowls of a 12-bowl muffin tin.  Line with pastry and pop into the fridge.

Preheat oven to 230C/450F.

Beat the egg, add the sugar and salt and beat again.

Add the water, vanilla, raisins and butter.

Divide into tart shells, and fill to almost half-full and bake for about 15 minutes.

Notes:

• I use dark brown sugar because of its deeper flavour
• I prefer sultanas, but use regular brown or golden ones if that's what you've got.
• Because the filling rises as it bakes, don't fill the tarts more than half way. If you fill them more the filling will spill out and make a bit of a mess.
• If you don't like raisins, you can use the same volume of nuts (walnuts or pecans).
• The original quantities: 1 cup brown sugar, 1 cup raisins, 1 egg, beaten, Butter the size of an egg (melted,) 1 Tablespoon water, 1 teaspoon vanilla.

Rich pastry (for 12 tarts)

350g / 585ml / 2.33c /  AP flour
175g/ 190ml / 0.75c / frozen butter
1 egg yolk
cream / milk / water (as needed)

Make the pastry in the usual way. Chill the dough for at least 30 minutes before using.

Roll to about 3-5mm thickness and scry your pastry cases.


jasmine

Blue Monday Pie

See that pie?  The one with the crimped, hand made crust?  The one with the mellow meringue?

It embodied all that was wrong my Blue Monday Weekend.  The gawds decided to bat me, my friends and my family around as a cat bats around a paper crumply.  It seemed as if with every BBM bing, every corner I turned, every chair I sat in, every call I took, something happened that would test the patience of Job. I think (I hope) that spate is now over, and we've been flung to safety underneath the cosmic chesterfield, far from the reach of outstretched fully-clawed paws.

I won't go into details, but if I were to declare those four days' key phrases, they would be:

• The majority of bylaw calls are because the complainant is the bad citizen.
• No good deed goes unpunished.
• Mid-life crisis.*
• 2nd-degree burns.**
• Collusion. Emergency Board Meeting. "Sudden" resignations.
• Entitled, bubble-wrapped 20-somethings and 30-somethings.
• Mean girl clique.
• Bobblehead.

That's when I decided to bake a pie.

I found a century-old custard pie recipe I'd never heard of and thought I'd give it a go.  It would have worked...if I were in a better mood.

After more than two hours in a 400F/200C oven, it was slooshier than a community college girl spending her OSAP loan on a Reading Week in Fort Lauderdale and wobblier than a basophobic-aquaphobic-acrophobic crossing the Kotmale Footbridge.

I don't recall how long that (deleted) pie was in the oven, but I decided to call it a day and plop the meringue on top when the now slightly more sober college girl was on the footbridge.

I tasted that pie.  My friend tasted that pie.

My Dear Little Cardamummy has always said she could taste my mood in my cooking.

It wasn't the worst pie in the world.  But it certainly wasn't a good pie.  I'm not sure it was an okay pie.  I'm not even sure it was fully cooked.

The rest of my week went much better (still, there were some residual annoyances, but I think things are sort of on an even keel).  I remade the pie.  It was good.

The recipe will be posted later, but until then, I think I'll have a slice of pie.

*Not mine--according to the usual age my family (on both sides) kick the bucket, I'm not due for another four years.

**Again, not me.


cheers!
jasmine
I'm a quill for hire!

Happy Pi Day! Key Lime Pie with Chocolate Coconut Crust

Happy Pi Day! As many of you know, I'm from Kitchener-Waterloo…home of the University of Waterloo and its renowned maths, engineering and computer science faculties, The Perimeter Institute, and one of North America's fertile tech hubs…so pi day can take on a slightly different feel than in other areas.

Much to my parents' regret, the maths and sciences genes swerved by me, leaving me more interested in pie than pi.  That said, I've been known to watch documentaries and attend lectures about physics, stats and math. And of course a good percentage of my working life--both corporate and as an independent consultant is spent with maths and science inclined colleagues and clients. The numbers part of my brain is alive and well, just happily riding the waves of words, music and art that usually preoccupy my mind.  

I usually let Pi Day pass sans fooferah, but this year, thanks to my unhealthy obsession with all those lovely Buzzfeed quizzes, I found out I am a key lime pie.  That is, the "Which Pie Are You?" quiz offered the following proclamation:

"You're tart and sweet, and so, so creamy.  You think outside the box, which can be your biggest asset.  Nothing's quite as satisfying as your cool graham cracker crust."

Yeah.  That sounds about right.  

But so do the other quizzes I've taken.  I'm Lady Violet, Lizzie Bennett as well as Abigail.  I'm Henry Rollins from Black Flag and I'm Wonder Woman.  I'm so awesome I don't need to give up anything for Lent…especially snickerdoodles.

But back to pie…erhm…pi…erhm…

Needless to say, ever since that pie quiz, key lime pies have been jostling for room in my head.  And it turns out…I happen to have all the ingredients on hand.  Sweetened condensed milk and coconut extract in the pantry, cookie crumbs, coconut and lime juice in the freezer.  The rest --sugar, salt, butter and eggs are almost in use.

The filling is a pretty standard, unfettered key lime pie filling.  The crust is a result of a bit of kitchen playing.  Together they create a rather easy and lovely pie. The only caveat I can offer is that it does take a full workday to set, so make it the night before or the morning of to ensure the filling is properly cooled and set.

Key Lime Pie with Chocolate Coconut Crust

Yield one 9" (23cm) pie.

Ingredients

For the crust

150g/300ml/1.25c less 2tsp chocolate wafer crumbs

55g/165ml/0.66c unsweetened desiccated coconut

20ml/2dspn/4tsp sugar

1pinch salt

40g/45ml/3Tbsp butter, melted

1tsp/5ml coconut extract

For the filling

375g/14oz/300ml/1.25c less 2tsp sweetened condensed milk (one tin)

4 large egg yolks, lightly beaten

150ml/0.5c+1Tbsp+2tsp key lime juice (or regular lime juice)

1 pinch salt

Method

Preheat oven to 350F/180C.

For the crust:

Mix all crust ingredients together.  The texture will be damp sand-like.

Press onto the bottom, and up the sides of a pie tin.  Bake in preheated oven for 10 minutes.  

Remove from oven and let cool for 10-15 minutes on a wire rack.  

Leave the oven on as you mix the filling.

For the filling:

Mix the tinned milk with the yolks.  Add the juice and salt and mix until smooth.

Pour into cooled crust.  Bake for 15 minutes.

Remove from oven and let cool on the counter for about 30 minutes and then set, uncovered, in the fridge for 8 hours.

Garnish, if you must, with sweetened whipped cream.

Note:

If you're squeezing the lime juice yourself, rasp a couple of teaspoons of zest and mix into the filling.

cheers!
jasmine
I'm a quill for hire!

Happy Thanksgiving! Double Chocolate Whisky'd Pumpkin Pie

Happy Thanksgiving to all my fellow Canadians.


I know I've been remiss in posting my foodie adventures (and yes, there have been some), but *gasp* I've been going out! and having fun!


More about that later.


Today is Thanksgiving Day in Canada. Yes. Canada celebrates Thanksgiving. We've been doing so since 1578 when the English explorer Martin Frobisher was absolutely thrilled he didn't become a popsicle while searching for the NorthWest passage. About 30 years later Samuel de Champlain (the foodie he was) and his French settlers initiated their own feasts of thanks.


My Dear Little Cardamummy has quite a fondness for pumpkin pie. It's not really Thanksgiving unless there's a pumpkin pie on the table. My Big Strong Cardapoppy on the other hand, calls all pies "apple pies" (including cherry, pumpkin and banana creme) and, from what I've gathered, isn't too fussed on what the sweet is. He just wants a 10kg/22lb turkey on the table (did I mention it's usually just three or four of us for lunch?). Yes, really.


Needless to say, after a certain amount of negotiation and some consternation, I won the dessert battle (really, Mum store bought pie?) and I was allowed to bring in dessert.


I immediately cottoned onto the idea of a chocolate pumpkin pie. I checked my library to see what there was--a number of pumpkin pies, but no chocolate pumpkin pies. My online search basically came back with three recipes, and their permutations reposted over and over and over again. None of them truly excited me, so I put on my apron and started playing.


The finished result was this pie--chocolatey but not overpowering the pumpkin, laced with warming spices that remind me of both falling leaves and crunching snow. Underneath it all is a deeper warmth carried by whisky and vanilla.

Double Chocolate Whisky'd Pumpkin Pie
Adapted from recipes by Edna Staeber, Martha Stewart, Baking Bites and Dreena's Vegan Recipes.


Yield: one 9" pie (1.75" deep)


Ingredients


For the crust
170g (1c+3Tbsp /295ml) all purpose flour
20g (4Tbsp/60ml) cocoa
25g (4Tbsp/60ml) sugar
0.25tsp (1.25ml) salt
85g (6Tbsp/90ml) very cold (if not frozen) unsalted butter
2 egg yolks, beaten
0.5tsp (2.5ml) vanilla extract
1-2 Tbsp (15-30ml) ice water


For the filling:
28g (2Tbsp/30ml) unsalted butter
70g (0.33c/85ml) semi sweet chocolate chips
2Tbsp (30ml) heavy cream
0.5tsp (2.5ml) cinnamon
0.25tsp (1.25ml) ground cardamom seeds
0.125tsp/ 1/8tsp (0.6ml) ground cloves
0.125tsp/ 1/8tsp (0.6ml) nutmeg
pinch salt
135g (0.66c/170ml) brown sugar
280g (1.25c/310ml) pureed pumpkin
2 eggs3-4Tbsp (45-60ml) whisky (see notes)
1tsp (5ml) vanilla extract


Serve with any of the following, if desired
Whipped cream/Chantilly cream
Ice cream
Icing sugar


Method
For the crust


Sift together the flour, cocoa, sugar and salt. Grate in the butter with the large holes on a box grater, then rub in the butter into the dry ingredients, until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs. Mix in the beaten egg and vanilla then dribble in enough water so the dough comes together but is not wet or tacky. Form the dough into a disk and pop into the fridge for 30 minutes.


Preheat oven to 300F/160C. Lightly butter a pie tin that's 9" wide and 1.75" deep (approx 22cm wide, 4.25-4.5cm deep).


Line the pie tin with the dough that's been rolled out to approx 0.5cm (0.25") thickness. trim the edges and crimp the crust as you see fit. Dock the bottom and sides of the crust by piercing the dough with a fork's tines--I do this until it reminds me of my dentist's acoustical tiles. Line the crust with tin foil and then weight it with pie weights or dried beans. Bake for 15 minutes.


Remove from oven, take the foil and the weights off and let cool as you make the filling.


For the filling:
Preheat oven to 375F/190C.


Melt the butter until slightly foamy. If you're doing this on the stovetop, turn off the hob and add the chocolate chips. Stir until smooth. Add the cream, spices and salt and stir until smooth. Mix in the brown sugar. Set aside to cool slightly.


In a separate bowl, mix together the pumpkin eggs, whisky and vanilla, until well mixed. Fold in the slightly cooled chocolate mixture and mix until you cannot see streaks of orange or brown. Pour evenly into the cooled crust and smooth the top. Bake for 40-55 minutes. The filling will be set and an inserted skewer will come out clean.


Remove from the oven and let cool completely.Serve with whatever accompaniment (or none at all) you wish


Notes:

• You don't have to make the chocolate shortcrust if you don't want to. A regular shortcrust or graham wafer crust will be fine (but then it would simply be a Whisky'd Chocolate Pumpkin Pie...nothing wrong with that).
• Do not use pumpkin pie filling. Goodness knows what's in that stuff.
• Whisky. I suppose it's optional, but it's Thanksgiving (or Christmas, or whatever occasion that warrants pie). You may feel better with a few drams of whisky.
• More about whisky. I'm Canadian, so I use rye/Canadian whisky. You can use what you have on hand (even if it means bourbon, scotch or Irish whisky). If you don't have whisky in the house, use brandy, rum, cognac or creme de cacao (or whatever else you think may work) :)...I welcome any and every effort to make this pie happier

cheers!
jasmine
I'm a quill for hire!

Plum Rhubarb Custard Pie

I bought an obscene amount of rhubarb these few weeks. To me they are like Cadbury Easter Eggs or Hallowe'en Kisses: Load up on as many as you can because they will disappear before long.

As a result, bundles of scarlet stems pack my fridge, they jut here and there and balance precariously on yoghurt tubs and containers of leftovers. Every time I open the door my ideas and experiments flood my my mind.

The other week a colleague brought in a rhubarb custard pie for the staff picnic. It was lovely--just sweet enough to let the fruit's tartness shine through. It was also something I'd not had before --a plain rhubarb pie or rhubarb or rhubarb-strawberry, yes, but a custard pie. No.

So that got me thinking.

Thinking about how custard pies scare me. Just a little.

Not scared in the sense that I break out in hives at the thought of someone leaping out from behind a hydrangea bush to slap me in the face with custardy-whipped creamy-crusty goodness

Scared...as in...they consistently cause problems...but in an inconsistent way.

Sometimes the custard just doesn't happen...and by that I mean it disappears. POOF. Gone. I don't know if it absorbed into the fruit or crust or simply decided to go AWOL when my back was turned.

Other times the custard just doesn't set. Slicing into the cooled pie reveals fruit in an eggy pools soaking into the crust.

No. I don't understand either.

Something happened when I made this pie. The custard not only appeared, but it set. It surprised me so much I made it twice to ensure it wasn't a fluke. It wasn't a fluke.

With my custardish conundrums overcome, I decided to infuse its cream sweetness with cardamom and match it with a compote of rhubarb and plums.

The result was visually stunning-- claret-coloured fruit swirled with primrose custard; its floral tartness contrasted against a sweet cardamom'd custard. I am quite happy with this.

The pie is easy to make, but is a bit involved. You can make things a bit easier for yourself by making the custard and compote a day in advance; the pastry can be made well in advance and frozen.

Plum Rhubarb Custard Pie

Yield: one 23cm (10") pie

Ingredients
For the crust
350g (625ml/2.5c) all purpose flour
0.5tsp (2ml) salt
1tsp (5ml) sugar
150g (165ml/0.66c) very cold (frozen, preferably) butter
65g (80ml/0.33c) very cold (frozen, preferably) lard
60-90ml (4-6Tbsp) ice water

For the fruit
250g (500ml/2c) rhubarb, chopped into 1cm pieces
250g (3-4) plums, chopped into 1cm
pieces
100g (125ml/0.5c) brown sugar
1tsp (5ml) vanilla
0.25tsp (1ml) salt

For the custard
310ml (1.25c) table cream (18% cream) or milk
0.25tsp (1ml) ground cardamom
1 egg plus 1 egg yolk
100g (125ml/0.5c) sugar
1Tbsp (15ml) cornflour

Method:
For the crust
Mix together the flour, salt and sugar. Grate in the butter and lard and then rub into the flour mixture. You're looking for a rubbly mixture where some pieces are like coarse sand and others are no larger than the size of a pea. Sprinkle in enough water so the dough comes together. Form a ball and flatten into a disc. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.

For the fruit mixture
Mix all the fruit ingredients together into a saucepan. Over a medium flame, bring to a bubble, stirring occasionally, and let cook for about 10 minutes or until the rhubarb softens and the juices are thick. Take off the heat and let cool.

For the custard:
Add the cardamom to the cream or milk. Scald the cream, take it off the heat and let cool.

Beat the eggs into the sugar. Keep on beating as you dribble in the slightly cooled cream.

Remove about a quarter cup of the mixture and mix in the cornflour to make a slurry.

Rinse out and dry the saucepan in which you scalded the cream. Return the cream mixture( (the one without the cornflour) to the pan. Over a low flame, stir the custard for a few minutes. Add the slurry and keep on stirring until thick and the custard coats the back of a spoon. Remove from heat and let cool

To assemble.
Preheat the oven to 180C/350F

Roll out the pastry to fit a 23cmx5cm (10" x 2") tin. Blind bake for 20 minutes.

Spoon in the fruit mixture and then pour the custard over top. Level as best as you can and bake for 30 minutes.

The pie is done when the custard is just set.

Remove from the oven and let cool thoroughly before slicing. Serve with whipped cream or ice cream, if you wish.

Notes:
- You can use pluots or apriums instead of plums
- If you can substitute vanilla for cardamom
- If you have a pastry recipe you prefer (or a store bought crust in your freezer), you can use that instead of the pastry I suggested.

cheers!jasmineI'm a quill for hire!

Mmm...Canada: Food Day: Blueberry-apricot frangipane tart

I heart July. It starts with Canada Day and, this year, it ends on Food Day.

It celebrates what we eat and how we eat it. It highlights what's here naturally, from fish and shellfish, to beasts and birds to crops and wild fruits and veggies. It recognises each crop and herd brought by waves of immigrants from cows and pigs to wheat and from indigenous foods to crops and herds brought over with each successive immigration wave.

Mmm...Canada. We are a nation of lucky eaters.

Admittedly, the vast majority of my foodbuying happens in megamarts of varying sizes. When I can, from spring until autumn I travel out past the roundabout to Herrle's in St. Agatha. They're a local treasure, known for having the best produce grown either by the Herrle family or by other local or close-to-local growers.

The market itself evolves as the seasons do. You won't find corn in April and it's highly unlikely saskatoon berries will offered in August. Here even the most removed from food cycles are aware of the specialness of the produce: deep red tomatoes heavy from their juices, signs leading shoppers to the freshest-picked beans at the back of the store, gaggles of shoppers at bins of their famous corn, their arms filled with ears destined for a pot of water or for the barbecue. It's not like my usual megamart.

Yesterday I made a point of heading out to St. Agatha. I returned with a bagful of goodies: yellow and green courgettes, tomatoes, sweet potatoes, apricots and wild blueberries. I'll probably beg My Dear Little Cardamummy for guidance in replicating her courgette and tomato curry and the sweet potatoes will be roasted. But the fruit?

The weather has cooled off a tad and this Jasmine no longer wilts in the heat and humidity. As a result turning on the oven isn't arduous, but a pleasure. Especially when a tart is to be had.

This tart is a variant of the Bakewell Tart Daring Baker's challenge I hosted last year, ably assisted by my dear Annemarie of Ambrosia and Nectar: but this time the frangipane is sandwiched between fruit layers atop a sweet shortcrust.The resulting rich, sweet nuttiness is perfect for sharing on a day that celebrates food.

Blueberry-Apricot Frangipane Tart
Makes one 23cm (9") tart

One quantity sweet shortcrust pastry (recipe follows)
Bench flour
2Tbsp apricot or blueberry jam, warmed
One quantity frangipane (recipe follows)
200g (1c) (wild) blueberries, rinsed and picked through
5-10 apricots, sliced into eight wedges each.

Crust:
225g (0.75c+ 3Tbsp) ap flour
2Tbsp sugar
0.5tsp salt
110g (0.5c) unsalted butter, cold (frozen is better)
2 egg yolks
1-2 Tbsp cold cream

Frangipane:
100g (7Tbsp) unsalted butter, softened
100g (0.5c) sugar
2 eggs
2.5ml (½ tsp) almond extract
100g (1 scant cup) ground almonds
3Tbsp all purpose flour

For the crust:
Sift together flour, sugar and salt. Grate butter into the flour mixture, using the large hole-side of a box grater. Using your finger tips only, and working very quickly, rub the fat into the flour until the mixture resembles bread crumbs. Set aside.

Lightly beat the egg yolks and quickly mix into the flour mixture. Keep mixing while dribbling in the cream, only adding enough to form a cohesive and slightly sticky dough.

Form the dough into a disc, wrap in cling and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes

Place the chilled dough disc on a lightly floured surface. If it's overly cold, you will need to let it become acclimatised for about 15 minutes before you roll it out. Flour the rolling pin and roll the pastry to 5mm (1/4”) thickness, by rolling in one direction only (start from the centre and roll away from you), and turning the disc a quarter turn after each roll. When the pastry is to the desired size and thickness, transfer it to the tart pan, press in and trim the excess dough. Patch any holes, fissures or tears with trimmed bits. Dock the crust with a fork and chill in the freezer for 15 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 200C/400F. Line the tart tin with foil and pour on the baker's beans. Bake for about 10 minutes.

For the frangipane:
Cream butter and sugar together for about a minute or until the mixture is primrose in colour and very fluffy. Scrape down the side of the bowl and add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. The batter may appear to curdle. Pour in the almond extract and mix for about another 30 seconds and scrape down the sides again. With the beaters on, spoon in the ground nuts and the flour. Mix well. The mixture will be soft, keep its slightly curdled look (mostly from the almonds) and retain its pallid yellow colour. Set Aside

Assembling the tart:
Spread as even a layer jam onto the pastry base. Tumble the blueberries on top. Slather on the frangipane, spreading to cover the entire surface of the tart. layer the top with as many of the apricot wedges as possible (depending upon the size of your slices, you'll probably have leftovers. Just eat them).

Pop into the oven for 30-40 minutes. The frangipne will poof from between the fruit slices, brown and set.

Remove from the oven and cool on the counter. Serve warm, with crème fraîche, whipped cream or custard sauce if you wish.

When you slice into the tart, the almond paste will be firm, but slightly squidgy and the crust should be crisp but not tough.

cheers!

jasmine


I'm a quill for hire!

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Mmm...Canada: Maple pecan butter tarts

A quick business trip north of the border brought our dear Glamah of Coco Cooks to my fair land. I knew through years of bloggy (and now more often than not non-bloggy) conversation, she's a kindred kitchen spirit, willing to try pretty much anything at least once.

In real life she didn't disappoint. She sparkles...and not in a contrived Meyeresque way...she's stylish, astute, sharp-tongued and sharp-witted. And here's the kicker...she's even more beautiful in real life than she is in her photos. Yes. Really.

When foodbloggers gather, kitchen-themed gifts are offered (whether we expect them or not). She brought me the most amazing Garrett's Chicago mix popcorn (who knew cheese and caramel would be so addictive). My gift to her? A selection of a Canadian staple: home-made butter tarts: traditional raisin, maple walnut and chocolate.

Notice how I write "traditional raisin?" Well...them's fighting words up here. The pro-raisin and the anti-raisin tribes have been hurling insults at one another for a while, each claiming their version superior to the other. I'm with Team Raisin.

That is...I would be with Team Raisin if I could eat them. I can't--I find them migraine-inducingly sweet. But, according to various afficionados around here, I make a mighty fine butter tart. So fine, in fact, I've been known to use them instead of currency: it's amazing how many extra hands are lent when butter tarts are mentioned in passing.

A basic butter tart is a rich shortcrust pastry shell filled with a (raisined) thick buttery-sweet filling, akin to what swathes pecans in pecan pie. There are many types of fillings available--nuts, fruit, peanut butter...They are incredibly easy to make--like other tarts, you can just buy frozen pastry shells if you need to, but really...pastry-making skills are easy enough to acquire...

The filling is forgiving, just keep in mind to not fill each shell more than half, for fear of that sticky, buttery sweetness overflowing its pastry bounds. You can make them in tartlette tins, but all the homemade ones I've been offered and the ones I've bought from local Mennonites have been formed in muffin tins, which I think add to their allure.


Maple Pecan Butter tarts
Adapted From Edna Staebler's Butter Tart Recipe in Food That Really Schmecks
Yield 12

For the pastry:
350g (2.5c) ap flour
125g (0.5c) cold butter (frozen, preferred)
a few tablespoons

cream

For the filling
250g (2.25c) brown sugar
60ml (0.25c) maple syrup
30g (2Tbsp) butter, melted
1 beaten egg
1.5 Tbsp water
a pinch of salt
100g (1c) pecan pieces

Grate butter into the flour and with the tips of your fingers, rub the mixutre until it resembles fine breadcrumbs. Add enough cream to moisten the mixture so it forms a cohesive dough. Form a disc and refrigerate for about 20 minutes.

While the dough is cooling, beat together all the filling ingredients, except the nuts, and set aside.

Preheat the oven to 220C/450F.

Roll the pastry to about 0.3-0.5cm (aprox 1/8"-1/4") thickness. Scry circles large enough to fit the bowls of a 12-bowl muffin tin. Divide the nuts between the bowls and cover with enough

filling to reach the half-full level of each tart. Don't go much beyond this as the filling will expand and overflow. Bake for about 15 minutes or until the shells are baked and the filling is set.


cheers!



jasmine







I'm a quill for hire!

Guest post by Mr. Bean: My Humman Cat is bizy

Hallo all my luvelly humman cats!

Did you miss me? I missed you! You all look so pretty!

Oh look there are new hummin cats here! Halloo to you too! Am I not handsum and cute?

You don't know hoo I am?

My name is Mr. Bean (my frendz call me Beanie). I used to live with my humman cat but I don't any more. I live with Gramma and Grampa. It's nicer here. They feed me chicken all the time and they cuddle me all the time and I get to help Grampa fix things. Last week I soopervized cuz he had to fix the water pipes. It's so hard making shure he does a good job. He doesn't listen to me at all. I keep rolling the pipes to make shure they roll good and he takes them away from me. But Gramma sometimes gives me something called "pork" and it's gud. She puts lots of nice things on the meat to make it taste yummy!

Bestest of all iz there's no Hagia and Zeus here and I gets all the chicken and cuddles. I'm NOT greedy. I deserve it all and more!

My humman cat (she will always bee my humman cat) told me that when she was on hollydaisies her friend told her that she liked it when I writed to all you nice peepuls. She aksed me if I could write today because she is so buzzy.

I don't no what she does all day. She was never there when I lived with her. So if I can't see her she can't be doing anything? Rite? She told me she has to be gone at sumthing called a Ree-treat. She said it was three daise of meetings for a course she's taking. She says she will be working very hard.

A ree-treat? It sounds like all she will be doing is geting lots and lots of treats! Like cakes and cookies and roast beef and chicken. Imajine three days of eating all them lovely fuds! That's not hard! That's FUN!!!!

I don't know if you know but Jasmine had a burthday a foo days ago. She always has yummy things with Gramma and Grampa and I hoped there would be some yummy things for me to eat too.

There wasn't. She asked for fish.

I don't like fish.

I like chicken. If she loved me she would have asked for chicken so I could have some. She can keep her yukky fish.

I didn't get any yummy food for supper. Lookit how mean she is!

I thought I might have some yummy cake and icing. I like icing. But it was chocklit.

I asked for some and she said "No Beanie. You can't have any. It's poysunus for pussycats."

But she's a humman cat! If I can't have any, she shouldn't have any.

It's not fair. I'm a good boy and I give nice hugs and I purr. I should have some cake. I looked sad at her with my speshul look that says I'm a good boy who has never eaten anything in my whole entire life. She's so mean. I didn't get anything good to eat. Only cat fud.

I wasn't allowed to have any of the burthday yummys she made for her frenz at wurk. I didn't even SEE the yummy things...except for theese pictures. They are Peanut Butter Chocolate Tartelettes. See? They have chocklit and I can't eet them too.

Why couldn't she make chicken tartelettes? Then I could have one. But I don't want the chicken with peanut butter. I don't think I would like that.

She got the recipe from that funny humin cat on the TV with the funny head fur called Alton Brown.

She gave me the recipe to give to you. She puts everything on a waying machine and cooks that way. I don't like waying machines. Whenever I get on one the the numburs say 21 or 22 sometimes 24 and then Gramma says I have to loose weight and stops feeding me chicken. That's not nice.

So here is the way Jasmine made those tartelettes. She said they were yummy and her wurk friends gobbled thems all ups.

I'm tired now and I'm going to have a sleep. I hope you all have a good day! If you like it when I rite to you please let my humman cat no and maybe she will let me rite to you again.

Alton Brown's Peanut Butter Pie
(makes 15 tartelettes)

180g chocolate cookie crumbs
1 Tbsp sugar
85g salted butter, melted
335g peanut butter (200 crunchy, 135 creamy)
55g soft salted butter
85g icing sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
55g bittersweet chocolate, chopped
75ml heavy cream

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F.

Mix together the crumbs, sugar and melted butter. Press into tartlette tins and bake for about 5 minutes and let cool completely.

Cream together the butter and peanut butter, then sieve in the icing sugar and blend well. Mix in the vanilla extract. Divide peanut butter filling between the shells, smoothing the tops as carefuly as possible. Return to the oven and bake for about six minutes. Let cool.

Make a ganash by scalding the cream and then tipping the chocolate pieces into the hot liquid. Let sit for a couple of minutes. Stir carefully until the chocolate and cream combine. Spread the over the peanut butter filling and cool for at least an hour before serving.

cheers!
jasmine

What I'm reading: Rex Stout's Fer de Lance (opens to my Amazon.ca associates store)

I'm a quill for hire!

Daring Bakers: Bakewell Tart...er...Pudding

Recipe origins: Traditional (UK)
Inspirations and References: Allan Davidson, Tamasin Day Lewis, Anton Edelmann, Jane Grigson, Nigella Lawson and Jamie Oliver
Hostess: Me!
My lovely co-hostess: Annemarie of Ambrosia and Nectar

The June Daring Bakers' challenge was hosted by Jasmine of Confessions of a Cardamom Addict and Annemarie of Ambrosia and Nectar. They chose a Traditional (UK) Bakewell Tart... er... pudding that was inspired by a rich baking history dating back to the 1800's in England.

Bakewell tarts…er…puddings combine a number of dessert elements but still let you show off your area’s seasonal fruits.

Like many regional dishes there’s no “one way” to make a Bakewell Tart…er…Pudding, but most of today’s versions fall within one of two types. The first is the “pudding” where a layer of jam is covered by an almondy pastry cream and baked in puff pastry. The second is the “tart” where a rich shortcrust pastry holds jam and an almondy sponge cake-like filling.

The version we’re daring you to make is a combination of the two: a sweet almond-flavoured shortcrust pastry, frangipane and jam.

Bakewell Tart History and Lore
Flan-like desserts that combine either sweet egg custard over candied fruit or feature spiced ground almonds in a pastry shell have Mediaeval roots. The term “Bakewell pudding” was first penned in 1826 by Meg Dods; 20 years later Eliza Acton published a recipe that featured a baked rich egg custard overtop 2cm of jam and noted,

“This pudding is famous not only in Derbyshire, but in several of our northern counties where it is usually served on all holiday occasions.”

By the latter half of the 1800s, the egg custard evolved into a frangipane-like filling; since then the quantity of jam decreased while the almond filling increased.

This tart, like many of the world's great foods has its own mythic beginnings…or several mythic beginnings. Legend has it in 1820 (or was it in the 1860s?) Mrs. Greaves, landlady of The White Horse Inn in Bakewell, Derbyshire (England), asked her cook to produce a pudding for her guests. Either her instructions could have been clearer or he should have paid better attention to what she said because what he made was not what she asked for. The cook spread the jam on top of the frangipane mixture rather than the other way around. Or maybe instead of a sweet rich shortcrust pastry case to hold the jam for a strawberry tart, he made a regular pastry and mixed the eggs and sugar separately and poured that over the jam—it depends upon which legend you follow.

Regardless of what the venerable Mrs. Greaves’ cook did or didn’t do, lore has it that her guests loved it and an ensuing pastry-clad industry was born. The town of Bakewell has since played host to many a sweet tooth in hopes of tasting the tart in its natural setting.

Bakewell tarts are a classic English dessert, abounding in supermarket baking sections and in ready-made, mass-produced forms, some sporting a thick sugary icing and glazed cherry on top for decorative effect.

Enjoy it with a cup of tea or coffee or just eat it sneaky slice by sneaky slice until, to your chagrin, you realise the whole tart has somehow disappeared despite you never having pulled out a plate, fork or napkin with which to eat it.

Is it a tart or is it a pudding?
Someone once said something like “The Bakewell pudding is a dessert. The Bakewell tart is that girl over there.”

It’s a debate that rages on and we aren’t taking sides on this one. But we will say that many people call this pudding a tart.

While we’re at it...
The etymology of pudding is a rather interesting and slightly convoluted one.* The naming confusion may come from the British manner of referring to the dessert course as ‘pudding’ (as well as referring to fat babies by the same name, though we don’t think that is what was the inspiration in this case). And so any dessert is a pudding until another name comes along and adds clarity to what it really is.

* nb: Annemarie had to electronically restrain Jasmine from delving into another treatise, threatening to remove her digital scale, personally autographed copies of How To Eat by Nigella Lawson and A.S. Byatt’s Possession and toss her kitchen footstool into the squidgy marsh up the road (really…Jasmine’s kitchen appears to be designed by a 6’4” fast food-eating engineer named Martin, Chuck or perhaps Buford) Anyone interested in hearing or reading her wax lyrical about puddings should just email her directly.


The Challenge

• Rough Durations: Please see individual recipe elements to see how much time you’ll need. You may pull it together in more time or less—it all depends upon your kitchen’s pace. You can complete the tart in an afternoon, or break it up into a couple of days by making the pastry one day in advance.
• Measurements: These recipes were developed using weight and not volume metrics, so for better results, pull out your scales. We’ve done our best with the Metric to Imperial conversions.
• A giant tart, medium tarts or little tartlettes: We’ll leave that to you.
• Mandatory and Optional Elements
Mandatory element 1: Sweet Shortcrust Pastry
Yes, it’s a pie pastry. Don’t look at us like that. It’s sweet and tender and it’s not scary…and we’re encouraging you to do it by hand and put the food processor away (but if you really want to pull out the gadget, go ahead).

Mandatory element 2: Frangipane
We love onomatopoeia of frangipane: it’s rich, sweet and feels slightly luxurious, and can be used in several confections.

Optional element: Home made jam or curd
We know several amongst us are rather jammy with making their own jams and preserves. Go ahead get wild and creative or simply showcase whatever’s local and in season. If you haven’t jammed before and want some hints or recipes, take a look at Bernardin’s homecanning.ca. If you want to just make some jam for this challenge and not go through sterilising jars and snap lids, you can try a pan jam, similar to Jasmine’s Blackberry Pan Jam. If you do use homemade jam, please include your recipe or the link to the one you used in your post.

Bakewell Tart…er…pudding
Makes one 23cm (9” tart)
Prep time: less than 10 minutes (plus time for the individual elements)
Resting time: 15 minutes
Baking time: 30 minutes
Equipment needed: 23cm (9”) tart pan or pie tin (preferably with ridged edges), rolling pin

One quantity sweet shortcrust pastry (recipe follows)
Bench flour
250ml (1cup (8 US fl. oz)) jam or curd, warmed for spreadability (here's the strawberry jam I used)
One quantity frangipane (recipe follows)
One handful blanched, flaked almonds

Assembling the tart
Place the chilled dough disc on a lightly floured surface. If it's overly cold, you will need to let it become acclimatised for about 15 minutes before you roll it out. Flour the rolling pin and roll the pastry to 5mm (1/4”) thickness, by rolling in one direction only (start from the centre and roll away from you), and turning the disc a quarter turn after each roll. When the pastry is to the desired size and thickness, transfer it to the tart pan, press in and trim the excess dough. Patch any holes, fissures or tears with trimmed bits. Chill in the freezer for 15 minutes.

Preheat oven to 200C/400F.

Remove shell from freezer, spread as even a layer as you can of jam onto the pastry base. Top with frangipane, spreading to cover the entire surface of the tart. Smooth the top and pop into the oven for 30 minutes. Five minutes before the tart is done, the top will be poofy and brownish. Remove from oven and strew flaked almonds on top and return to the heat for the last five minutes of baking.
The finished tart will have a golden crust and the frangipane will be tanned, poofy and a bit spongy-looking. Remove from the oven and cool on the counter. Serve warm, with crème fraîche, whipped cream or custard sauce if you wish.

When you slice into the tart, the almond paste will be firm, but slightly squidgy and the crust should be crisp but not tough.

Jasmine’s notes:
• If you cannot have nuts, you can try substituting Victoria sponge for the frangipane. It's a pretty popular popular cake, so you shouldn't have any troubles finding one in one of your cookbooks or through a Google search. That said, our dear Natalie at Gluten a Go Go has sourced some recipes and linked to them in the related alt.db thread.
• You can use whichever jam you wish, but if you choose something with a lot of seeds, such as raspberry or blackberry, you should sieve them out.
• The jam quantity can be anywhere from 60ml (1/4 cup) to 250ml (1cup), depending upon how “damp” and strongly flavoured your preserves are. I made it with the lesser quantity of home made strawberry jam, while Annemarie made it with the greater quantity of cherry jam; we both had fabulous results. If in doubt, just split the difference and spread 150ml (2/3cup) on the crust.
Annemarie’s notes:
• The excess shortcrust can be rolled out and cut into cookie-shapes (heck, it’s pretty darned close to a shortbread dough).

Sweet shortcrust pastry
Prep time: 15-20 minutes
Resting time: 30 minutes (minimum)
Equipment needed: bowls, box grater, cling film

225g (8oz) all purpose flour
30g (1oz) sugar
2.5ml (½ tsp) salt
110g (4oz) unsalted butter, cold (frozen is better)
2 (2) egg yolks
2.5ml (½ tsp) almond extract (optional)
15-30ml (1-2 Tbsp) cold water

Sift together flour, sugar and salt. Grate butter into the flour mixture, using the large hole-side of a box grater. Using your finger tips only, and working very quickly, rub the fat into the flour until the mixture resembles bread crumbs. Set aside.

Lightly beat the egg yolks with the almond extract (if using) and quickly mix into the flour mixture. Keep mixing while dribbling in the water, only adding enough to form a cohesive and slightly sticky dough.

Form the dough into a disc, wrap in cling and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes

Jasmine’s notes:
• I make this using vanilla salt and vanilla sugar.
• If you wish, you can substitute the seeds of one vanilla bean, one teaspoon of vanilla paste or one teaspoon of vanilla extract for the almond extract

Frangipane
Prep time: 10-15 minutes
Equipment needed: bowls, hand mixer, rubber spatula

125g (4.5oz) unsalted butter, softened
125g (4.5oz) icing sugar
3 (3) eggs
2.5ml (½ tsp) almond extract
125g (4.5oz) ground almonds
30g (1oz) all purpose flour

Cream butter and sugar together for about a minute or until the mixture is primrose in colour and very fluffy. Scrape down the side of the bowl and add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. The batter may appear to curdle. In the words of Douglas Adams: Don’t panic. Really. It’ll be fine. After all three are in, pour in the almond extract and mix for about another 30 seconds and scrape down the sides again. With the beaters on, spoon in the ground nuts and the flour. Mix well. The mixture will be soft, keep its slightly curdled look (mostly from the almonds) and retain its pallid yellow colour.

Annemarie’s notes:
• Add another five minutes or more if you're grinding your own almonds or if you're mixing by hand (Heaven help you).

Special thanks to my dear Annemarie and Ivonne and all the DBs who put together the tart--thanks so much for everything.

Click here for a list of participating Daring Bakers.

cheers!
jasmine

What I'm reading: The Secret Agent by Joseph Conrad

I'm a quill for hire!

A tart for Jerry

Oh my word. How may I adequately thank our dear Jerry of Cooking by the Seat of My Pants?


A couple of months ago he sent me a note, asking for my snailmail addy because he had a little bit of Christmas love to send my way. Gosh.


Jerry and I "met" a couple of years ago, when he was still a newish foodblogger. He sent me a note and I rambled on and on and on (anyone who emails me knows that they run the distinct risk of receiving anywhere from a one-word reply to upwards of a 2 000 -word treatise).


I love hearing from new bloggers and people who want to be bloggers (foodish or otherwise). Sometimes they just want to say "hi," sometimes they've got technical questions, sometimes they need a little moral support or a big kick in the electronic tushie to get going and put their thoughts and creativity to pixels. I do my best to impart whatever it is I can and when I can, I'll peek at what they're doing. It's all about paying it forward, my friends.

Jerry's one of the regular ones I keep an eye on. Not only is he a dear soul--supportive, bright and creative--his foodish passions are expressed so well. If you've not visited it, by all means take a look.


Anyway, Jerry sent me a little box of goodies as a way of thanking me for my supportive words early in his blogging career. As usual, Canada Post decided to have its way with my foodish giftie and deposited it into the infernal Supermailbox well into January. (I swear...there must be a notice in the Postie lunch rooms across Canada telling them to withold any and all parcels destined for me because there's a good chance there will be food...good food...in the box. I think I'm running a 50 per cent delivery rate...and of course, when you ask them about this, the *lovely* people at the Post Office tells you it was delivered. They just don't tell you to where it was actually delivered...this marks the end of this round of my Canada Post rant.)


So, how to thank such a kind and sweet soul for his time and efforts to the e-foodish world, as well as the support he gave me last year?




Well...I do the only thing I can...and make him a treat. I've been hankering to do a tart for a while--a return to my tarty ways, I suppose and after some pondering, I came up with a simple and lovely apple tart.


I normally do a traditional double-crusted apple pie, but my pastry skills have atrophied quite a bit...definitely not up to gift-giving snuff. So, instead of a flaky-crusted pie, my sights turned to a sweet shortcrust tart.


The crust itself is closer to a shortbread-type dough, fortified with egg yolks. Sweet, crisp and just lightly scented with vanilla, even the most nervous pastry maker can turn out a lovely tart.


I'm a bit of a fan of caramel apple pies, but for something like this, I wanted just a hint of caramel, so after par-baking the crust, I slathered a couple of spoonfuls of dulce de leche on the base. The apples were zhuzhed a bit with cinnamon and spritzes of orange juice before fanning onto the sweetened, sweet crust. After those slices' edges have bronzed, and the tart is removed from the oven, brush melted apricot jamp over the still warm fruit.

Thank you so much, Jerry. You are an absolute gem.





Apple Tart
For one 23cm/9" tart

One recipe, sweet shortcrust tart, par baked (recipe follows)
2 bulgey teaspoons of dulce de leche or caramel sauce
3-4 apples, depending on the size of the apples, peeled and sliced into wedges
the juice of one orange
sugar
0.5 tsp cinnamon
melted apricot jam for glazing

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F.

Roll the pastry to about .8cm thickness and lay in the tart pan. Trim the edges and dock the bottom before parbaking for 10 minutes. Brush the base with dulce de leche.

Combine the apples, juice, a few spoons of sugar and cinnamon. Fan the apples onto the pastry. Cover with tin foil and bake for about 20 minutes. Remove the foil and continue baking for another 15-20 minutes, or until the crust is golden and the apples' edges are bronzed.

While still warm, brush fruit with melted jam.


Sweet Shortcrust Pastry for one 9" tart
225g ap flour
110g Butter
2 Beaten Egg Yolks
30g Sugar
0.5 tsp Vanilla Salt
0.5 tsp Vanilla paste
1-2 Tbsp Water

Sieve the flour, sugar and salt together into a bowl. Then grate the butter into the flour and rub lightly until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs. Stir in the yolks, vanilla paste and water, until a soft but not sticky pastry is formed.

Wrap tightly in cling and chill for about half an hour.


cheers!
jasmine

Tuesday is eDay

To all my Canadian readers of voting age,

Tomorrow is the federal election.

Go. Vote.

I don't care for which party you vote (actually I do, but that's beside the point). Just go out there and cast your ballot.

If you don't, and you complain about the outcome, I will find you. I will bring you over here. I will feed you something from the $1.39 menu from the fastfoodarama minimall. And then I will make you clean out the kittybox...not sure if you'll get the scooper.

If you don't know who your candidates are, where to vote or have any other votey-type questions, go to the Elections Canada web site...they have all the answers...I'm sure of it.

I treat political events (elections, budgets, crises etc) in the same way others feel about the Stanley Cup Playoffs or the Superbowl. I absorb as many of the stats that come my way, read as many articles and listen to the interviews. I follow the polls and make note of whose lawns are studded with signs and if they are the same signs as the last federal or provincial run. I practically live at Barry Kay's web site. This year I've been in double euphoria since I'm also following the American race (and yes, I chose to watch the VP debate as opposed to the Canadian party leaders' round table).

Tomorrow night I'm camping out in the TV temple, in front of the great illuminated altar, with CBC:Newsworld as my celebrant. Granted, the nature of our electoral process means that we (ahem) generally know who won (ahem) by the end of the evening. But still I watch the returns, note the belleweather ridings along with those of interest for other reasons. I hide behind the cushion when the wrong party wins and I try and physically move the televised vote ticker towards one colour over another. Heck...I've been known to gasp, squeal and ...um...yell very unladylike words...at the updates. The next morning I read all the analysis and then partake in various conversations about what happened and why.

People who've never watched an election with me are quite shocked as to how involved I am when it comes to merely watching the results. Some people find it amusing...others wonder which alien race has shapeshifted one of their own to replace me.

Since I treat election night results as a big sporting or awards night, I eat the same way. This election, I'm having the October DB selection...which I'm not allowed to tell you about. Well...that's not fair is it? Well, those are the rules. Other foods that have graced the centre table include natchos, chips and dip, stuffed jalepenos, chicken wings, cake, ice cream...

This year apart from the DB selection there will be chips and dip, and sweet potato pie. Yup. The leftovers from Thanksgiving lunch will be snarfled up in anxious moments between returns.

Normally we have apple pie or even pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving, but this year I decided to go for a sweet potato pie after seeing and reading about them. I didn't tell my parents what I'd bring, only that I'd bring something. They looked and automatically assumed it was pumpkin. Then they tasted it...they still thought it was pumpkinny but a little different. Boy, were they shocked when they found out it wasn't.

I made a double batch of filling--half went into a 9"/23cm pie and the other half filled nine tartlettes. It's quite easy and quite delicious.

Sweet Potato Pie
makes one 9"/23 cm pie or nine tartlettes
675g sweet potatoes
125ml half and half
30g softened butter
30g brown sugar
1 egg
1/4 tsp cinamon
1/4 tsp cloves
1/4 ginger powder
ground seeds from one cardamom pod
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/4 tsp vanilla salt
shortcrust pastry made of one part (by weight) butter and two parts plain flour
egg wash

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F and line a baking tray with tin foil. Slice the sweet potatoes into wedges and bake until fork-piercingly soft. Let cool to room temperature. Scoop out the flesh and stir in the half and half and set aside.

Cream together the butter and sugar and beat in the egg. Stir into the potatoes and mix in the spices, vanilla and salt.

Pour into th pie shell (tart shells), brust the pastry with the egg wash and bake until the filling is lightly browned and slightly poofy (pie--about an hour, tarts--about 35 minutes).

Let cool thoroughly before serving with sweetened whipped cream or ice cream.

cheers!
jasmine