Tart, My Sweet

Toe (as in Term Of Endearment) was out for the night. What was I to do with the place to myself? I knew the answer before the final, upturned syllable of inquiry had a chance to manifest: yummy asparagus-spinach pesto and banana tarte tatin. My tart looked nothing like the Saveur photo. It baked as a blob in the middle of the dish. Caramel bubbled from underneath like a burnt sea beyond the reach of my banana-pastry island.

It was my first time making caramel—and my second, after burning the first batch. The kitchen pursuit, gone awry, took on something of a Keystone Kops quality. Having heard horror stories of burned caramel, but not remembering what those actual stories were, I feared it might ruin my pan. I was afraid to leave the goo, but equally afraid to pour it down the drain. I couldn’t find a paper bag and grabbed a plastic one to dump the liquefied sugar. It was not my finest synaptic firing. The bag melted and caramel glopped to the floor. Scooping it up with paper towels, I made contact with the pile where pinkie meets palm. I peeled the caramel from my skin, which gave way to a red burn that blistered in short time. The bag had melted, not from caramel, but from the pan. Deep as I was into the culinary expedition I’d embarked on—the pesto was well under way—I wasn’t about to tuck my tail and pack up shop. There would be tart by night’s end. I methodically removed the bits of plastic glued to the bottom of my cookware, and began round two of caramel production.

I had lost my groove. I kept ice tucked in hand and hid the burn from steaming pots. I spilled more caramel on the stove, counters, and floor. Pushing air out of the sugar bag, I puffed a cloud of granules onto my face and kitchen fixtures. By the time I noticed my sandals tracking sugar into the living room, the obligatory post-cook cleaning had already doubled. Have I mentioned I don't actually like caramel? Oy vey.

With camera batteries charging in the other room, I forgot to photograph the folly. Toe returned home, and we dug into the pan without getting a snap or shot. Naturally, I recreated the banana blob this weekend for a photo op. Despite my best-worst efforts, it looked relatively nice. While at it, I also made a peach-raspberry galette. And even though I unknowingly turned off the oven, instead of resetting the built-in timer, the tarts were tasty.

Lessons and Notes

Peach-Raspberry Galette
It was a busy weekend so I used premade dough. I evaded blanching and pitting with well-drained canned peaches. I then:

• Hand-mixed the peaches with almond extract, ground clove and nutmeg. I chose almond over vanilla since peaches are a stone fruit.
• Spread raspberry jam because my desired fig jam was not an available option.
• Sprinkled the layered peaches with almonds (because we had them).
• Served with roasted banana gelato.

Banana Tarte Tatin
The tarte tatin story more-or-less goes: The Tatin sisters ran an eponymous hotel. An overworked sister stumbled upon the upside-down tart by throwing a crust on top of the baking apples of her flubbed pie.

Recipe Notes:

• I’ve been substituting dried lemon peel for orange zest.
• When pouring caramel, hustle but don’t fret. Hardened clumps in the baking dish will remelt and spread while baking.
• Lacking a 7.5 x 12 dish, I used a 9 x 13. This was too big. My 8 x 8 would have been better.
• Paired with blackberry rum sorbet. Flipping the tart, bananas up, is a prettier way to serve. I keep forgetting this.

Safety & Cleanliness:

• Hot caramel burns, and it quickly adheres to skin as it cools and hardens. Do not touch hot caramel.
• The quick-cooling caramel spills seem easier to scrape up after they harden.