Skip to main content

Plum Tart


I pulled out one of my favorite cookbooks the other day, Bon Appétit by Barbara Fairchild. It's 750 pages plus an index of pure cooking joy. These are all recipes pulled from issues of the magazine of the same name, and they are all approachable. Don't be put off by the price of this book ($35) because it includes a two-year subscription to the magazine.

I made last week's menu from the book—Corn, Wild Rice and Sausage Soup; Jamaican Jerk Burgers with Orange-Chipotle Mayo; Fettuccine Bolognese; Grilled Pork Fajitas with Chipotle Chile Sauce; Tandoori-Spiced Chicken with Tomato-Ginger Chutney. I think it was all good, but the Jamaican jerk sauce was the best.

I also made a dessert, which I normally don't bother doing. I made the Country Plum Tart on page 600, and it was all I could do not to eat the entire thing—I didn't, mind you—just had my fair share. I served it with Häagen-Dazs vanilla, specifically the Five sub-brand. Each flavor (ginger is wonderful, by the way) is made with only five ingredients.

I'm pretty sure this would work well with most fruit—apples, pears, berries—but for now, here is the plum version.

Serves 6 to 8

Crust
2 cups flour
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup chilled unsalted butter cut into 1/2-inch cubes
5 tablespoons ice water

Filling
1 1/2 pounds red-skinned plums, halved, pitted and sliced
1/3 cup plum jam
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
3 tablespoons, divided
1 egg, beaten

For crust: mix flour, sugar, and salt in a food processor. Add butter and pulse until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Add water by the tablespoon and process just until moist clumps form. Gather dough into a ball; flatten into disk. Wrap in plastic, and chill 1 hour.

Preheat oven to 375˚F. Roll out dough on large sheet of parchment paper to 1/4-inch-thick round. Trim dough round to 14-inch diameter. Transfer dough on parchment paper to large baking sheet.

For filling: Mix plums, jam, vanilla, allspice in large bowl. Mound plum mixture in center of dough, leaving 3-inch plain boarder. Sprinkle fruit with 2 tablespoons sugar. Fold dough border over fruit, pleating loosely and pinching to seal any cracks. Brush dough with beaten egg. Sprinkle remaining sugar over dough.

Bake tart until crust is brown and filling is bubbling, about 45 minutes. Transfer baking sheet to rack and cool tart slightly, about 20 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Comments

dive said…
Ooooooh, maximum yum!

Thanks for making me drool with hunger, Robyn.
You'd better not see what's cooking over at mine today.
kyle@sift said…
We have a new vendor at the market, Vincent Orchards. They raise apples, peaches and plums. Hopefully they will find their way into one of your delicious meals.
Oh, this is helpful. I have some peaches I have been indecisive on how to handle.

Popular posts from this blog

No More Mr. Nice Guy

It's good to be a nice person--to say nice things, to do nice things, to write nice things--but I declare an end to the use of the word nice. Nice is what you say when you can't think of any other adjective. Someone shows you a picture of their back yard--that's nice. Someone tells you about their afternoon adventure--that's nice. Or someone describes their childhood in great detail and sometimes with painstaking effort--that's nice. It's a lazy word, and it's non-descriptive. Nice is like mashed potatoes with noodles and chicken gravy all in a big pile on one plate with some canned corn for garnish. Everything is the same color and texture and base substance--starch (this is a favorite Amish dish). Nice is like a partly cloudy day in April when outside feels like inside, and you can't tell a difference between the lighting and the temperature of your living room and the lighting and temperature of your front yard. Nice is a glass of lukewarm water. ...

Ish People

Tell an Ish person to show up around 9 a.m., and you'll see them somewhere around 9 a.m. Tell them to show up at 9ish, and you'll see them anywhere from 9:05 to 9:20. You have given them license to dilly dally, and who wouldn't take advantage of that? The other night at the big shindig dinner party, one of the drummers said the rehearsal the next morning would begin at 9ish. "I am an ish person," he says. Immediately the clanker goes off in my head--oh, good, I thought. I can deliver my daughter a little late. No Ish person is early, so if you say 9ish, that does not mean give or take 5, 10, 15 minutes. It's exclusively a taking phrase. Take an extra 10 minutes to drink your cup of coffee. We won't mind. We're Ish people. Sunday's rehearsal started at 2:00. Because it was conducted by the same people who conducted the Saturday rehearsal, my understanding was 2-ISH. My daughter is worse than I am about taking liberties with Ish time frames, so she d...

Long Live Anita Bowser

You know I occasionally check my hometown newspaper's website to scan the obituaries (morbid, I know, but I'm at that age). Over this past weekend, I read the obituary of Indiana State Senator Anita Bowser . She was a noted Democrat who championed causes protecting the neediest in the state's population. She was respected on both sides of the aisle for her intelligence and plain and outspoken approach to law making. The picture on her senate page is lovely. I remember none of those things about Anita Bowser . My first year or so in college was spent at a branch of Purdue University, and in the early 80s, Anita was a political science professor. She taught my American Government class my freshman year, and she was a mess. Somewhere in my old text book, I have a sketch of her drawn on a particularly dull day in class--her hose sagged at her ankles, her slip showed at least half an inch all the way around, her hair had been slept on but not brushed, and her bright red lip stic...