Spiced Orange Tart

Oranges are really cheap at my grocery store right now. Now, I do like oranges, but I have some sort of mental block against just picking them up and eating them as a snack.

I'm not sure why... maybe it's because when I was little I chewed my fingernails and so I could never really peel oranges very well and they were a lot of work to eat for little me.

Maybe it is because one time when I was around 6 I ate an orange by slowly and messily dissecting it little juice-filled packet by packet.... on top of one of my favorite books... thereby accidentally banishing that book to sticky, orange-covered oblivion. Poor book. That must have traumatized me or something.

ANYWAY, for whatever reason, oranges always sound really good at the store, and they are cheap, so I buy them... and then they sit in my fridge for several months until they are sufficiently green and fuzzy to be sent to the compost pile. But not this time! This time I decided to take control of the destiny of the oranges in my fridge and make something of them. I adapted this recipe a bit for the custard insides: http://www.crumbblog.com/2012/03/pretty-in-pink-blood-orange-tart.html, and I adapted this recipe for the spice shortbread crust stuff: http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2008/11/the-great-unshrinkable-sweet-tart-shell/

First off, the tart shell. See, the shell has to sit in the fridge and chill for a little while before you bake it, so it is a good thing to start off with.

Cinnamon and nutmeg in liberal helpings take this tart crust from pretty darn good to a spicy, wonderful thing that makes your kitchen smell like heaven.

Flour, icing sugar, butter, spices, and an egg combine together into crumbly goodness. The trick to this tart crust is first to cut in the butter until it is very coarse, then to add the egg and stir in the egg until the crust begins to clump together like the last picture above shows.

When it begins clumping like that, dump it out of the bowl onto your countertop and gently fold it over and over until it sticks together into a rough crust.
This will take a while, and you will be tempted to mash it together and knead, but you must resist the temptation because that will take away all the lovely flakes of butter in the crust. Gently press the crust into a square, then fold it in half (sort of roughly since it is all crumbs), press it together again, fold again, etc, until it is done.

Then take this rough crust, wrap it in saran wrap, and place it in the fridge for a while so that the moisture can work all the way through it and make it easier to work with.

Roll it out on plenty of flour, and put it into a tart or pie pan, then press it with your fingers until you like the shape.

Freeze this shell now, for about 20 minutes or until it is sort of firm. This will help it keep its shape while baking.

Meanwhile, lets begin to talk about the insides of this tart. Orange juice, lemon juice, spices, and eggs combine to make a lovely custard. I didn't have a lemon, so I used a lime instead. It worked.

Juice oranges until you are tired of juicing oranges, then juice a few more...

Aren't egg shells pretty?

You are going to cook the mixture until it turns into a custard. This is not hard, you just have to heat it up slowly and stir it constantly or it will curdle. I am a very impatient, forgetful person so mine usually curdles. I then just pretend that is how it was supposed to be, and no-one is the wiser. It doesn't affect the taste, just the looks... and if whoever you are feeding it to hasn't made custard before, perhaps you too can convince them that it is supposed to be a bit lumpy.

While your custard cools, you can pull your tart shell out of the freezer, poke it all over with a fork so that it doesn't bubble, and bake it.

Once it is baked, pour your custard into it.

Now, pop it back in the oven to bake the custard. I like to sprinkle some cinnamon and nutmeg over the top of it before baking it, because it is pretty, hides my lumpy custard, and tastes good.

And then you eat!

Spiced Orange Tart Recipe

Crust ingredients:
1 and 1/2 cups flour
1/2 cup icing sugar
1/4 tsp salt
1 stick plus 1 Tbs cold butter
lots of cinnamon and nutmeg... like, probably 2 Tbs of each. At least.
1 large egg. Or two or three eggs the size of the eggs I use, which are laid by little farm chickens in my mother-in-law's barn.

Mix together flour, sugar, salt, and spices. Cut butter into cubes, then cut it into the flour mixture until it is in large crumbs. Beat the egg, then mix it in. Keep stirring until the mixture begins to clump, then turn out on counter and gently knead until it clings together. Wrap in saran wrap and place in fridge for 10 to 20 minutes, or up to a day.

When ready, roll out crust and press into pan, then freeze for about 20 minutes or until slightly firm. Poke all over with fork, cover with aluminum foil, then bake at 400 degrees F for 20-25 minutes. Remove foil and bake for another 10 minutes to brown crust.

Custard ingredients:
2 tsp orange zest
3/4 cup fresh orange juice
2Tbs lemon or lime juice
3/4 cup sugar
3 whole eggs
1 egg yolk
1/4 cup butter, cut into cubes
1 Tbsp each of cinnamon and nutmeg

Whisk all together in medium saucepan and heat slowly while stirring constantly. Heat until mixture thickens enough to coat back of spoon... a very runny custard.

Pour custard into crust and bake at 350 degrees F for 25- 30 minutes until custard is cooked. This means that it will be a bit bubbled at the edges but the middle will still wobble some.

Chill in the fridge until ready to eat.

Enjoy!

Peach Pie

They were there, sitting at walmart, in all their peachy glory. They looked lovely. They felt soft and juicy. I could just imagine biting into their goodness and eating a peach with juice dribbling down my chin, periodically sprinkling the sweet, juicy fruit with salt. ...

Ok, so I'm weird and eat my fruit with salt. Take it up with my mom. But don't get distracted by the salt, pay attention, stay with me. I'm telling a story.

Anyway, so there I was and there they were and I gave into temptation. I bought four big, plump, juicy, bright peaches. I brought home my bounty.
I eagerly opened the bag and pulled out a peach.
I pulled my salt sprinkler over beside me.
I was nearly drooling, so ready was I for Peachness.
I opened my mouth and took a big, giant bite....
and....
nothing.
Disappointing blandness.
Yucky graininess.
Devastating averageness.
Definitely NOT what I was craving.

I was disappointed.
Disenchanted.
Disconcerted.
Disheartened.
Disgruntled.
Disillusioned.
Dissatisfied.
Not. Happy.

So, I decided to rectify this grave error in the taste of the peaches. I decided to redeem them and make them into a pie. Now, by this point in my blog journey, oh wonderful readers of mine, you should know me well enough to know that I often do not carefully measure my ingredients.
Or use a lot of fancy ingredients.
Or carefully use all the correct equipment.
In fact, usually, my cooking consist of mixing what looks good in the amounts that seem right, and mostly with my fingers. Because mixing with fingers is awesome, lets just admit it.

So, true to form, I did not really measure anything for this peach pie. But I did take pictures! So here you go.... and I'm just sure you can make your own little package of peachy goodness wrapped in buttery crust wrappings. I believe in you.

 

 

Make sure to cut your peaches really thin, so that plenty of juice comes out and mixes with the sugar and spices. 

Maybe about a cup and a half of sugar, depending on how many peaches you have? Enough sugar that every piece of peach has a little glaze on it when you mix it up. Cinnamon and nutmeg are the spices, quite a bit of each. Don't be shy. Add lots of spices. It's good, I promise.

 

I have found my new favorite way to crust pies. It avoids the mess and hassle of a top crust, and I think it looks better than when I try to pinch and prettify a top crust. I always end up with tears and dimples and hollow spots and burnt edges when I try to do a regular pie crust. 

So, this way, you just roll out an extra large bottom crust and put it in the pan with the edges draping over. Then put in the filling, and take those edges and pull them up over the top, wrapping your little pie package up all nice and cute!

 

 

Bake at 400 degrees F, for about 40 minutes. 

 

So, funny story. As I served up my peach pie, Morgan happened to be talking to his dad on the phone. It was 6:30, by which time Morgan's dad is usually home from work, at their house about 40 minutes away. Morgan mentioned what we were eating, and that there was more, and it was too bad his dad wasn't here to eat any, and his dad thought that was too bad as well. After Morgan hung up, I remarked that his dad should have come by on his way home from work. As the last word left my mouth, there was a tapping on the kitchen window behind me. I looked up to see Morgan's dad looking hungrily in the kitchen window! He had stayed late at work and had been on his way home when Morgan called, and had turned around and come by for a piece of the pie. 

He seemed satisfied with the results. 

I must say, this was indeed a good peach pie. I was happy that I got my peach goodness after all!

Pie Crust

Can we talk about pie crust for a minute? Just a moment. Please don't scream, or hyperventilate, or run away. 

It has come to my attention that pie crust is something of a fear among the semi-cooking population of women. Perhaps not quite as badly feared as spiders, but possibly fairly close. 

Listen to me. 

It can smell fear. 

You can't show it that you are afraid. 

You have to show the pie crust who is boss. It's just a little blob of flour and butter. It can't hurt you.

Promise.

You can make a pie crust. You can make a lovely pie crust. You can make a flaky, buttery, light, salty, crispy, delightful pie crust. 

You can make a pie crust that you will want to bake and eat all by itself. 

Not that I may or may not have done that....

Ok, are you with me? Lets make a pie crust, ok? Now, true to my general cooking form, we aren't going to use a whole bunch of fancy ingredients. Those may work for some people, but I am not smart enough to remember them all, so I just stick with the pie crust my grandmother taught me how to make (Hi Mamma!). It's easy, it's really good, and it is totally unhealthy, which all good things, of course, are. 

Take flour. Got the flour? Ok, now take salt. Salt the flour.
Just a dash of salt.
You know.
Some salt.

Now take butter. Add half as much butter as flour. Tip: The butter should be really really cold. Pretty much frozen. I actually use frozen margarine. That way, the butter won't fall apart but will stay in flaky chunks in your crust.

Yes, that means that for every cup of flour you have half a cup of butter.

Cut the butter into the flour until you have little chunks. About pea-sized. Big peas. Now add some very, very cold water. I put pieces of ice in the water I'm going to use. You want this water barely above freezing, because you don't want your frozen little bits of butter to melt.

About half as much water as butter, but play it by ear. You want only enough water so that your dough barely sticks together. It will kind of look like the picture below. Mix it together, tossing it with your fingers. Do not knead it. Do not squish it. Just mix it tossy-like.

 

Now, with lots of flour on the counter, roll out the dough. Make sure you have a lot of flour on the counter and on the rolling pin and on your apron and all around. If your crust sticks to the counter, then you have a sticky swiss-cheese looking crust. And I'm not a big fan of swiss cheese pie crusts. 

What works for me to get the crust into the pan, is to fold the crust in fourths, move it, and unfold it. It works. Really, it does!

Ok. Now go make a pie. 

With this yummy pie crust. 

Ok?