{"id":1179,"date":"2008-07-23T00:53:00","date_gmt":"2008-07-23T00:53:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2008\/07\/23\/the-important-parts"},"modified":"2008-07-23T00:53:00","modified_gmt":"2008-07-23T00:53:00","slug":"the-important-parts","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2008\/07\/the-important-parts\/","title":{"rendered":"The important parts"},"content":{"rendered":"
Hello again.<\/p>\n
I sincerely hope that all our talk of chocolate chip cookies<\/a> hasn\u2019t left you in a sugar coma, because I come to you today with more sweets. Some of you are going to hate me for this, I know, but I had to. I didn\u2019t have a choice. This past Saturday evening, a reader of this website sent me an e-mail with the subject line, \u201cLooking for Good Pie Crust.\u201d And get this: I happened to have an apricot tart sitting on my kitchen table at that very moment<\/span>. I think this is what is sometimes called fate. Or happy coincidence. Or serendipity. Or synchronicity. Or all four.<\/p>\n Anyway, like I said, I didn\u2019t have a choice. Also, I love apricot tarts.<\/p>\n So we did. We threw our bags in the trunk and positioned a cooler of snacks on the back seat, and we drove. We ate tacos in the Mission and meringues at Tartine, Indian food in the East Bay and tomatoes on my aunt\u2019s back deck. We also, as a splurge, had dinner one night at Zuni Caf\u00e9. I don\u2019t remember many details of the meal, unfortunately, because I was very busy talking with my aunt during most of it – we two are talkers – and I was also quite intent on staring at the man across the table from me, this man who had amazing curls and who made my chest feel funny and tight and who, only three months before, I had not known existed. But I do remember one thing: the apricot tart. I always remember the important parts.<\/p>\n The Zuni apricot tart was a very simple affair. It was essentially a tart shell lined with sugared apricot halves and baked. There was no custard, no frangipane – nothing but apricot. If you look up the word \u201cunderstatement,\u201d I am pretty sure that, next to its definition, you will find an illustration of this tart. But it wasn\u2019t the least bit boring. On the contrary, it was sweet and a little tangy, sticky at the corners and jammy in pockets, the fruit soft and the crust crumbly with butter. It was made with Royal Blenheim apricots<\/a>, the menu gently boasted, and though they looked pretty average, their flavor was enormous: ripe, dense, almost rich. They tasted as though their essential apricotiness, or whatever you might call it, had been multiplied and concentrated by one of those fancy machines in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory<\/span><\/a>. In other words, this was a delicious tart.<\/p>\n So when I saw some especially nice apricots at the farmers\u2019 market last week, I decided to try to replicate it. I had seen a recipe for an apricot tart in The Zuni Caf\u00e9 Cookbook<\/a>, and it looked as simple as I had imagined it would. Mine weren\u2019t Royal Blenheims, of course, but maybe, I thought, if I played my cards right, they would surprise me.<\/p>\n I ordinarily hang on every word that Judy Rodgers writes, but in the case of this tart, I decided to forgo her crust recipe. Pie and tart doughs, I have noticed, tend to be a very personal matter for cooks: each of us has one that we love, and we tend to want to stand by it. I know I do. Until recently, I swore by Martha Stewart\u2019s pie dough recipe<\/a>. I made that stuff for years<\/span>. But then my friend Olaiya introduced me to hers, and it was very, very persuasive. It\u2019s an all-butter crust, like Martha\u2019s, but it differs a bit in the amounts, and it also includes a smidgen of apple cider vinegar, which helps to relax the gluten in the flour and keep the dough tender. Also, it just seems to work more easily, and more consistently, than Martha\u2019s does. I am in love. (Sorry, Martha. We can still be friends!)<\/p>\n I\u2019ve made this pie dough recipe a dozen times now, easy, and it is the one that I am using in my book<\/a>, and I really can\u2019t say enough good things about it. It\u2019s buttery and impossibly flaky and has yet to let me down, and on several occasions, it has even inspired perfectly sated people to beg for seconds. I don\u2019t know about you, but that\u2019s what I look for in a pie dough. Top it with some ripe, fragrant apricots, a little sugar, and a bit of salt, and you\u2019re in business, as they say. In the heat of the oven, the dough goes golden, crisp, and toasty, and the apricots release their juices to mingle with the sugar, forming a glossy, sweet-tart glaze that settles under and around them. Cut into wedges and dolloped with cr\u00e8me fra\u00eeche, it\u2019s the closest you can get to serving summer on a dessert plate. And when you run out of chocolate chip cookies, that\u2019s not a bad idea.<\/p>\n<\/a>
I was introduced to this particular apricot tart a few summers ago. Actually, now that I think about it, it was three years ago this month. Brandon and I had met only a couple of months before, at the end of April. He was living in New York then, working part-time and going to graduate school, and I was in Seattle, working part-time and writing my Master\u2019s thesis. That summer, we both chipped in toward a plane ticket, and he came to stay with me for five weeks. We hardly had any money, but my work schedule was flexible – a fact that almost, almost<\/span>, made up for the lack of money – and we decided to drive to San Francisco for a week. We had family there to stay with, so we could do it on the cheap, and we could take the coast road, we decided, which was supposed to be gorgeous.<\/p>\n<\/a>
And lo and behold, they did. Which is why I am yammering on and on about this. That, and because one of you wants a good pie crust, and the recipe I\u2019m about to give you includes one.<\/p>\n