When he told me how to prepare the Tarte Tatin to take as our donation to the Europe Table at the International Lunch at the boys school, my husband, the French chef, began with, 'Peel the apples'.
In the kitchen I am faced with two bags of green apples, a large bowl, a freshly wiped counter & a relatively dull paring knife. With these tools I will begin my quest.
While peeling the apples, I come to the conclusion that buying a prepacked bag of apples is a bad idea - here in Jamaica, anyhow. I picture a semi hauling apples hurtling down the highway somewhere in Maine, apples flying off the back whenever the truck hits a bump, leaving apples to bounce down the road, discarded. Behind the truck runs some enterprising young fellow scooping up these apples, bagging them & sending them to - Jamaica! Ah well, too late now.
I peel & peel. After the first apple, I am left with something the size of a golf ball. Hmmm. Oh well, there are many more apples to practice with!
After the peeling is done, I have a whole STACK of golf balls! Who will know, I think; my shame will be buried in honey & puff pastry! I will not allow my mood to be cast down by my amazing lack of peeling talent - No! On to the next!
'Core the apples'. Sounds simple enough - I get it - take the middle out. 'Course, the problem with the middle is that it's, well, in the middle. It's like that puzzle, 'Connect this square of nine dots using only 4 lines & not lifting your pencil off the paper!'. How to get the middle out of the apple? Well, I know there must be a special tool for such an activity. I also know my husband holds a great degree of disdain for kitchen gadgets that do only one thing, so, knowing that, I know we must not own one of these gadgets. (I do have an apple cutter that slices the apple up into handy bits for dipping into peanut butter - I hide it in the back of the drawer - don't tell!).
I decide to look ahead in my instructions: 'Cut the apple in half along the pole' (not the equator). Ah ha! If I have to cut the apple in half anyway, this might be a good way to get the middle out! So, I cut the first apple a little off center, which in theory should leave the core in the larger half (now, there's an oxymoron for you - there technically can't be a 'larger half', right?). Well, the core in this apple extends further than I had expected, so next I try to scoop out what's left of the core in the smaller section with my knife, & instead end up breaking the apple half in two. I take up the other section (the half with the core) & discover that my knife talent does not seem to encompass any kind of 'scooping' activity. So, I cut that piece into three pieces, which leaves me five pieces of apple. Already the directive of cutting the apple in half (only in half!) has been discarded as a somewhat whimsical & far fetched plan. Oh well, it's all about the taste, right?
After coring the apples, I am left with a massive pile of apple pieces - three of which seem to be intact halves. Next I turn to the pans. Looking at them now, it seems like two 8x8 pans are more trouble than they are worth, so I make the switch to an 8x13 cake pan.
Next I must 'fill the bottom of the pan with honey'. So, I do. But the pan is warped, so the honey pools on one side. To compensate, I get MORE honey & pour enough to cover the whole bottom, including the part that is higher than the rest. I melt some butter, which I am calling 56 grams, & I dribble it on top of the honey. Then I get the apple pieces, & if I can discover a 'flat side', I stick that side into the honey. I stuff the pan wherever there is room to stick an apple piece & throw it in the oven for 30 minutes.
'Til the apples are soft to the touch.'
40 minutes.
50 minutes.
Fine, must be enough. The apples have felt the same every time. I bring them out. The apples have shrunk somewhat & are now floating in honey. I leave them to cool.
After 'a while' I return to the scene of the crime & add the puff pastry sheets to the top, 'tucking in the edges'. As I do this, the honey that the apples are swimming in escapes up the sides, making it hard to keep the edges 'tucked in'. I choose to ignore the misbehavior of my tart, & stick it back in the oven for 30 minutes.
Or 40 minutes.
Or 50 minutes, when I discover I forgot to set the timer. Anyhow, the puff pastry looks puffed & nicely brown so I pull the tart out of the oven to let it cool again til my husband comes home.
While I am waiting on that, I proceed to something I KNOW how to make - Jello! (for the North American Table). This project I began the day before. This is not just any substandard jello, NO! This is 2 colored layered jello in individual cups, with whip cream to be added at the point of sale! The first layer of jello has been cooling overnight in 48 cups. Needless to say, there is no room at this point for any actual 'food' in my refrigerator! So, I finish up the second layer of jello which is my kind of cooking - only involving water, a Pyrex measuring cup, Jello powder, a microwave, a spoon & a refrigerator. If only I could get away with Jello every night for dinner! But no...
Hours later, my husband returns home. The Tarte Tatin awaits him in the kitchen. It has cooled completely. He turns on a burner to warm up the pan, then flips it quickly & skillfully upside down onto a cookie sheet. I see now why HE wanted to do this part. I can only imagine the kind of mess I would be cleaning up had I done it!
The tart fell nicely out of the pan, & other than the cascade of excess honey that poured out on top of it, the tart looked fine to me. I held my breath as my husband silently poured off the extra liquid & regarded the tart critically.
"It looks like something I could have made." he said.
I let out my breath, "But does it taste like something you could have made?"
He scooped up an escaping piece of apple & popped it in his mouth.
"Yes." he said. His highest compliment!
Then he looked at the tart again & said, "But why do the apples look like this? I thought I said to cut them in half?"
"Well," I began...
No comments:
Post a Comment