Thursday, July 02, 2015
I'm not always the most patriotic person. Lately I've been pretty heartbroken and confused about the state of our country and it's hard to feel like we've really made progress in dismantling institutionalized racism and injustice. But there have also been real sparks of hope: Marriage equality. Bree Newsome. Obama's "Amazing Grace."
Sometimes food-- not to mention food blogging (and about pies no less)--in the context of all of this can feel trivial and frivolous. But food can also be that glimmer of hope, a reminder of our culture and people power. It's sustenance to ground us in place, a reason to gather, something for the hands and body to do while the mind is reeling.
This fourth of July will be a space to think about it all-- the contradictions, the tragedies, the successes. A good time to catch up on some reading and writing, share some food with friends, celebrate the progress we've made as a country and think about what's next.
Here's a round-up of some berry pies and desserts from this blog and other favorites for your holiday gatherings. I'm not sure what I'll whip up this weekend, but I'm planning to let the berries lead the way.
Blueberry Hand Pies
Blueberry Icebox Pie
Blueberry Shortcakes with Whipped Cream Cheese
Plum and Blueberry Galette
Raspberries & Blackberries
Lime & Raspberry Italian Meringue Pie
Peach Blackberry Cobbler
Peach Blackberry Pie
Wild Blackberry Lemon-Goat Cheese Tart
Pickled Strawberry Piescream Sandwiches
Strawberry Creme Tart
Strawberry & Fresh Cheese Tart
Strawberry Icebox Pie
Strawberry Rhubarb Pie
Berry & Apricot Galettes with Saffron
Campfire Skillet Crisp
Currant Syrup, Switchel, and Gooseberry-Black Cap Pie
Monday, June 08, 2015
I'm going to try to keep the exposition to a minimum, here, as there is exposition enough in this multi-step recipe. But before I let you get to it, I do have some credit to give for this most genius concept you're about to receive...
The classic definition of folklore as a study and discipline holds up the value of face-to-face interaction-- stories or fiddle tunes or traditional recipes being shared between people in real time. In the age of the internet, though that has been expanded-- you can learn a ballad note-for-note off of Youtube, pick up an old recipe via a blog (ahem), share a story on your Facebook page. Face-to-face interaction is still preferred in the field, generally, but the notion that you can learn and share cultural traditions, information, and knowledge via digital forms is now widely accepted.
I too value the person-to-person relationship, but I've also gained a lot from online communities, particularly in the world of food. I've connected with people like Tara of Smoke Signals Baking, who I'd heard about in real life from mutual friends, but our real life meeting was brought about by our Instagram friendship. A few months ago my friend Jess and I met Camille of Wayward Spark, talking ecstatically about the food and farming worlds over bowls of ramen one brisk spring evening. Another connection, most pertinent to this post, is to Austin, Texas baker Trisha Beezup. I'm not sure how I actually found her, but I was swiftly inspired by her innovative and fanciful pie creations-- namely, piescream sandwiches. She's done a few variations: handpies stuffed with ancho brownie filling surrounding the ice cream, pie crust cinnamon rolls sandwiched with a salted caramel ice cream drizzled in chocolate, and strawberry basil crumb pie mixed into buttermilk ice cream. I mean seriously?!
Pickled StrawberriesFrom Short Stack Editions' Strawberries by Susan Spungen
Makes 1 pint
1/2 cup regular rice wine vinegar
3 Tablespoons white sugar
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon black peppercorns
1/2 vanilla bean, split lengthwise
2 sprigs mint
2 1/4 cups (about 1/2 pound) fresh strawberries, hulled
1 glass 16 oz. canning jar and lid, sanitized and dry
1. Place vinegar, sugar, salt, peppercorns, vanilla bean and 1/2 cup of water in a medium saucepan and bring to a boil over medium heat. Simmer until sugar and salt dissolve, then remove from heat and let cool until lukewarm.
2. Meanwhile place mint sprigs in a pint canning jar. Cut a shallow x into the hulled end of each strawberry and place in the jar. Once vinegar mixture is lukewarm, pour into jar over strawberries. Seal, let cool completely, and place in the fridge overnight (since I was planning to keep them in the fridge and use eminently, I didn't seal them via water bath canning, but you could if you wanted them to be shelf-stable). Pickles will keep for up to 2 weeks in the fridge.
Pie Crust Cookies
Makes about 18 3-inch cookies (9 piescream sandwiches)
Nothing in the House pie crust recipe, halved
1 beaten egg + 1 Tablespoon heavy cream
1. Prepare half of Nothing in the House pie crust as per the directions. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Once the dough has chilled for at least 1 hour, roll out on a clean floured surface to about 1/8-inch and cut into circles (mine were 3-inches in diameter). Place pie crust rounds on parchment-lined cookie sheet 1-inch apart, brush with egg wash and sprinkle with Turbinado sugar.
2. Place cookies in freezer for 15 minutes until hard, then place on middle rack of preheated oven and bake for 10-15 minutes, until golden brown. Remove from oven and let cool.
Pickled Strawberry Ice Cream
Adapted from Melissa Clark via New York Times Cooking
Makes about 1 pint
2 cups heavy cream
2/3 cup white sugar
1/8 teaspoon fine sea salt
6 large egg yolks
Pint pickled strawberries
1. Place heavy cream, sugar, and salt in a small pot and simmer over low hear until salt and sugar completely dissolve, approximately 5 minutes. Remove pot from heat and set aside.
2. In a medium bowl, whisk egg yolks. While whisking constantly, slowly pour in about one-third of the hot cream into egg yolks. Then immediately whisk the yolk mixture back into the pot with the rest of the cream.
3. Return pot to medium-low heat and gently cook until the mixture is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon (about 170 degrees on an instant-read thermometer). Strain through a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl, and let cool to room temperature before covering and chilling at least 4 hours or overnight.
4. Once chilled, churn in an ice cream machine according to manufacturers’ instructions. While churning, strain pickled strawberries from their vinegar liquid (reserve vinegar for drinking; you've essentially made a shrub). When ice cream base begins to set, stir in pickled strawberries (if your berries are large, you may want to halve or quarter them. I kept mine whole as they were quite small). Continue to churn until completely set, then transfer to freezer and freeze for at least 4 hours before assembling piescream sandwiches.
Pickled Strawberry Piescream Sandwiches
Inspired by Trisha Beezup
Makes about 9, 3-inch sandwiches
Pie Crust Cookies (see above)
Pickled Strawberry Ice Cream (see above)
1. Once ice cream is set and pie crust cookies are cool, scoop a generous scoop of ice cream onto pie crust cookie and sandwich with another cookie.
2. Place in freezer and let set for 1 hour before serving. This will make the whole shebang a much less messy eating experience, but I understand if you can't wait that long... ENJOY!
Cornmeal Whoopie Pies with Chocolate-Orange Buttercream
Oatmeal Cream Pies
Strawberry Crème Tart
Strawberry Icebox Pie
Friday, June 05, 2015
When I do have the time through, I'm compelled to go about the aspects of posting in a more deliberate way, trying a new photo set-up, filling gaps in my recipe catalog so I'm covering the classics, but also writing about more unusual regional and historical recipes. These are pies and other desserts that may have faded with the rise and fall of baking trends, or are in desperate need of recontextualization as their story and the people attached has become glossed over, simplified, or stereotyped. This is something that happens often with southern and other rural recipes.
I've also committed myself to shooting more film again-- for the blog and just in general. I've been really inspired by the past couple of rolls I shot on my dad's old Nikon F. The camera and the macro lens just capture light in a way that digital can never achieve with it's more flattened, even algorithm. Zeke compared it to analog tape, and that sounds right-- with film, what's in focus is completely clear, ringing out over the more gestural, fuzzy background.
I spent Memorial Day weekend at home-- a good three days to catch up on things, make a lot of food, take a lot of photos, and even work in a trip to the pool with friends. The weekend prior, Zeke and I picked 13 pounds of strawberries at Whitted Bowers Farm in Cedar Grove, North Carolina-- an organic, biodynamic U-pick patch with the sweetest, most flavorful berries I've ever tasted. I went a little crazy processing them-- pickling, freezing, baking, infusing them in vodka and putting them in ice cream (some details of such coming to the blog). A coworker also gifted me some rhubarb, so a Strawberry Rhubarb Pie was most definitely in order.
I browsed a number of recipes, settling on Nancie McDermott's from her crucial resource Southern Pies, due to it's higher ratio of rhubarb to strawberries. I'm a huge fan of rhubarb, and in my book, the best berry-rhubarb pies don't mask the rhubarb flavor, but enhance it. The strawberries were so sweet so I cut back on the sugar, and were small enough to leave them whole. This was hands down one of the best pies I've ever made, the flavor so brilliantly forward, the filling so red.
Adapted from Nancie McDermott's Southern Pies
Nothing in the House pie crust
3/4 cup-1 cup granulated sugar, depending on sweetness of berries
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 cups fresh rhubarb, cut into 1/2-inch chunks
2 cups hulled strawberries (mine were small so I kept them whole, but if large, cut into 1-inch pieces)
1 Tablespoon fresh squeezed lemon juice
1 large egg, beaten + 1 Tablespoon milk or cream, for egg wash
Turbinado sugar, for dusting
1. Prepare pie crust as per the directions here. Refrigerate dough for approximately 1 hour. Once chilled, roll out 1/2 of pie crust and fit into a 9-inch greased and floured pie pan. Return crust to the fridge while you prepare the lattice & filling.
2. Preheat oven to 425 F. In a large bowl, combine sugar, flour, cinnamon, and salt, using a whisk or fork. Add rhubarb, strawberries, and stir together gently with a wooden spoon. Pour mixture into pie crust.
3. To make the lattice: Roll out remaining dough into a long rectangle. Using a ruler as a guide, use a knife or pastry wheel to cut strips of equal width for the lattice top. Lay strips parallel across the pie and fold back every other strip. Weave the same number of strips perpendicular to the first strips, alternating over and under. Trim strips so that they leave a 1-inch overhang. Fold bottom crust over the lattice and tuck the excess under. Seal and flute edges decoratively.
4. Brush lattice with egg wash and dust with Turbinado sugar. Place pie on baking sheet and bake for 15 minutes, then lower temperature to 350 degrees F and bake until filling bubbles and crust is golden brown, 45-50 minutes more.
5. Place pie on cooling wrack and let cool for at least 30 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature.
4 & 20 Blackbirds' Rhubarb Pie
Rhubarb Meringue Tart with Pecan Shortbread Crust
Simple Rhubarb Tart
Strawberry Apricot Pie
Strawberry Crème Tart
Strawberry Icebox Pie
Monday, May 25, 2015
It was a thrill and such an honor to be among the 265 contributors to The Oxford Companion to Sugar and Sweets-- a new resource compendium from Oxford University Press. Many of those involved are among my food writer heroines, not to mention Darra Goldstein (!) the founding editor of Gastronomica and a personal role model in how she's been successful in two seemingly disparate (but certainly connected) fields-- academia and food + cookbook writing.
While "pie" was already taken, I was assigned Oreos, Nutella, and cotton candy-- fun topics to research and write about. Perhaps the most interesting factoid I discovered is that Nutella was not necessarily invented for the kismet that is the chocolate-hazelnut combination, but out of reasons of economy-- a thriftiness dating back to the Napoleonic Wars when Napoleon issued Continental Blockade. That caused the price of chocolate to skyrocket, so Italian chocolatiers began pairing it with chopped hazelnuts, which were abundant in the area, to stretch the supply. A similar rationing occurred during WWII, when Pietro Ferrero turned to the combination. Originally called pasta gianduja after the classic Piedmontese carnival character, it was renamed Nutella in 1964.
As for Oreos, the mystery involving the name is of note-- Nabisco invented it, but even the company itself does not cite a definitive story. Some sources speculate it derives from the French word for gold, or-- plausible, as the cookie's name was printed in gold lettering on the original package. Others, somewhat less convincingly postulate Oreo comes from the Greek oros, meaning mountain, claiming that the original cookies were mound-shaped. Whatever the history, I will say it was fun to do some "research" in the grocery store cookie aisle, scouting new Oreo varieties-- Birthday Cake, Banana Split Crème, and the Limited Edition Ice Cream Rainbow Shure Bert! among them.
Cotton candy was somewhat new territory for me, as I wasn't allowed to have the stuff when I was a kid, so have no real reference point or nostalgic leanings for it. Nonetheless, it has a fascinating history dating back to the 16th century, when its precursor, spun sugar, was used as adornment for sweet meats as well as sculptural desserts. Ironically (or maybe not so, as overconsumption of any confection would surely bring in the patients), cotton candy as we know it today was invented by two dentists, one in Nashville, and another in New Orleans.
As a whole Sugar and Sweets is a magnificent tome, filling 900 pages of detailed reference material on all things sweet, from sugar addiction to Iranian zalabiya, sweetness from the perspective of animals (turns out cats sadly don't experience the taste of sweet), music, religion, and sexual innuendo, Kara Walker to Lemonheads. It's an indispensable resource for any baker, food writer, historian, or just someone with a sweet tooth. It's certainly going to be my first reference stop when investigating any baked goods from here on out.
Nutella Icebox Pie
Speculoos Icebox Pie
Monday, May 18, 2015
I've spent five springs of the last seven living off the grid in the New England woods. It's still cold there in May and early June; the spring and its flowers and fruits are slow to arrive. But part of the joy of being up there is seeing the season come in slowly-- on early hikes there are green buds, fiddleheads, rare appearances of spring ephemerals. Then the trillium comes in, jack in the pulpit, then ladyslipper, and by mid-June, the peepers have become frogs, the ferns have unfurled, and the beech trees have all leafed out. I've missed that, and living in a season that's unplugged from "technology," yet so clued in to the natural world, other people, text and the senses.
But it's also been nice to experience spring a different way, elsewhere. In Kentucky a few weekends ago, I was amazed by how green everything was, and this past weekend in Durham, the smells of the honeysuckle and peonies were overwhelming. The seasonal foods of southern climes feel new again too-- I've gotten to enjoy ramp season and red buds and early glow strawberries-- and that's been a delight.
On a rare weekend when I was home in D.C., Morgan came over for backyard cocktails and baked goods. Though not quite local yet, I'd received some Blenheim apricots in my farm box, and Morgan had a selection of spirits from Art in the Age. With both, we opted for simplicity-- to let the flavors of the fruits and herbal liquors shine. Galettes are perfect for this in the baked goods department, and this one has few ingredients and a basic crust with a touch of cornmeal, adding a little grit and whole grain that's complimented by the pistachio pieces sprinkled on top. I kept the sugar to a minimum here-- the apricot filling still had a tartness to it, but feel free to adjust to your own taste.
Apricot Galette with Cornmeal Crust
Inspired by Apt. 2B Baking
For the crust:
1 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 cup cornmeal (I used this Whole Grain Kentucky Heirloom Cornmeal)
1/2 Tablespoon granulated sugar
1 teaspoon sea salt
1 1/2 sticks COLD unsalted butter (12 tablespoons), cut into slices
1 large beaten egg, cold
1/4 cup ice-cold water
1/2 Tablespoon cold apple cider vinegar (I keep mine in the fridge)
For the filling:
About 8 (3 cups) fresh apricots, pitted and quartered
3-4 Tablespoons granulated sugar (depending on sweetness of the fruit)
1 teaspoon cardamom bitters (or your favorite bitters)
1 Tablespoon fresh lemon juice
2 Tablespoons turbinado sugar
1 large beaten egg + 1 Tablespoon Turbinado sugar, for egg wash
2 Tablespoons finely chopped pistachios, for topping (optional)
1. For the crust: In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the flour, cornmeal, sugar, and salt. Using a pastry cutter or fork and knife, cut in the butter. You want to make sure butter chunks remain, as that's what makes the crust flaky.
2. In a separate small bowl, whisk together the COLD liquid ingredients (Using cold liquids ensures that your butter will not melt--another crucial detail for a flaky crust).
3. Pour the liquid mixture into the flour-butter mixture and combine using a wooden spoon. Mix until dough comes together, but is not overly mixed (it should be a little shaggy). Form into a ball, cut in half, and flatten each half into a disc. Wrap discs tightly with plastic wrap, and let chill in the refrigerator for at least an hour.
4. While crust is filling, prepare filling: In a large mixing bowl, combine apricot quarters, sugar, bitters, and lemon juice. Remove one dough disc and leave other in fridge or freezer for another use. Roll out one crust disc on a piece of parchment and transfer rolled crust and parchment to a large baking sheet.
5. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Ladle apricot filling onto rolled crust, leaving a 1-inch border. Sprinkle 1 Tablespoon of Turbinado sugar over the apricots, then fold up the pastry over the edges of the filling, leaving most of the apricots uncovered.
6. Place galette in freezer for 20-30 minutes while the oven preheats. Once chilled, remove galette from fridge and brush the pastry with the egg wash and sprinkle lightly with the remaining 1 Tablespoon of sugar. Bake tart in the middle rack of the oven for 30-40 minutes, until the fruit is bubbling and pastry is golden brown. Let the tart cool completely, then sprinkle with pistachio crumbles, if desired. Serve just warm or at room temperature.
For simple Art in the Age cocktail recipes, with Root and Snap + more photos, visit Panda Head Blog. Thank you to Whole Foods P Street for the flowers and ingredients.
Italian Plum & Port Crostata
White Nectarine Frangipane Tart with Homemade Puff Pastry
Photos by Morgan Hungerford West
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
As I've mentioned before, Rose's Luxury, with their Eggplant Tarte Tatin, Smoked Celery Mascarpone, and my favorite-- an English Pea Cake, has really opened my eyes into the exciting possibilities of vegetable-based desserts. While Aaron Silverman and crew certainly give these treats their own creative spin, these are not without their roots in traditional American and British baking. Of course, there's carrot cake and pumpkin pie, but I've also seen less common selections in old cookbooks-- Tomato Soup Cakes, Carrot Pie, Fannie Farmer's Caramel Potato Cake, and this Pretty Black Eyed Pea Cake-- a spice cake variety that's distinctly southern. There isn't much information about the cultural history of such desserts readily available, but it's a genre I'm planning to explore more.
This Sweet Pea Cake with Lemon Buttercream is British in tone (and not just because it's adapted from the UK blog Veggie Desserts)-- I imagine it as a perfect al fresco tea time accompaniment. It's a little more classic and oriented for the home baker than Rose's Luxury's pudding-like variety with mint curd and buttermilk cream. But in both, the pea purée makes the cake dreamily moist with a shocking green hue, while the pea shoots and other fresh greens position it squarely in the season of SPRING, no matter when you're actually eating it.
I baked this for a little luncheon with Morgan (of Panda Head Blog) and illustrator Elizabeth Graeber. Elizabeth and I both have birthdays in April, so we were doing double duty--picking up our collaboration series again as well as celebrating with a colorful spring meal.
Morgan made the zingiest Salmon with Lemon over Greens for our main course, and fresh radishes with butter and salt held us over while we snapped the obligatory photos and iced the cake. Big thanks to the P St. Whole Foods for offering up most of these ingredients.
Sweet Pea Cake with Lemon ButtercreamAdapted from Veggie Desserts
Makes a 9'' 2-layer cake
For the pea cake:
3 cups fresh or frozen peas
18 Tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
1 cup granulated sugar
4 large eggs
3 teaspoons vanilla extract
Zest and juice of 1 lemon
3 cups all-purpose flour
3 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoon salt
For the lemon buttercream:
2/3 cup (11 Tablespoons) unsalted butter, softened
2 1/2 cups confectioner's sugar
Zest and juice of 1/2 lemon
pea shoots and/or microgreens
For the cake:
1. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Grease and line two 9” cake pans (or three 6” pans) with parchment paper. In a medium saucepan with just enough water to cover the peas, bring peas to a boil for 3 minutes, then drain and refresh under cold water. Place peas in the bowl of a food processor and puree until completely smooth. Set aside.
2. In a medium bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, and salt, whisking gently to combine. Set aside.
3. In the bowl of a standing mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, then beat in the cooled pea puree, vanilla, and lemon zest and juice. On low-medium speed, add the flour mixture just until incorporated.
4. Spoon the mixture into the prepared cake pans, spreading batter evenly and leveling. Bake for 25 minutes or until a skewer inserted in the middle comes out clean. Cool for 10 minutes in the pans, then turn onto a wire rack to cool completely before icing.
For the lemon buttercream:
1. In the bowl of a standing mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, cream the butter until fluffy. Add in the confectioner's sugar and beat at least 3 minutes. Beat in the zest and a little of the lemon juice. Add more lemon juice as needed to make it a spreadable frosting consistency and beat to combine. Store in the fridge until ready to use.
1. Spread the buttercream between the layers of the completely cooled cakes and sandwich together. Cover the cake in the remaining buttercream and decorate with pea shoots, microgreens and edible flowers.
Find Elizabeth's brilliant related illustrations (including the menu) at Food on Paper and visit Panda Head Blog for more of Morgan's photos and the recipe for Salmon with Lemon over Swiss Chard.
Photos by Morgan Hungerford West (except for 1 & 8-- I took those!)
Illustrations by Elizabeth Graeber
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
Honey may just be the most sacred food there is. It is literally concentrated nectar, tastes sweeter to the tongue than refined sugar, and according to Hattie Ellis in The Oxford Companion to Sugar and Sweets was the first and most flavorful sweetener in the West until the sugar plantation production system was developed in the 1600s. It was prevalent in both foods and rituals of Ancient Egypt, Greece, and Rome, appears as a sacred symbol in Hinduism, Judaism, and Christianity, and has been used as a medicinal tonic for at least 4,000 years.
What I particularly find fascinating about honey is that no two are alike--they are highly dependent on season, region (even micro-region), weather, and nectar source. When I studied abroad in Aix-en-Provence, my housemates and I developed a great fondness for the particular honey of a beekeeper who sold at the open air market. He had a huge white beard, overalls and a straw hat, and his name was Claude Qui Dort (translated as "Claude Who Sleeps." Aside from being a magical creature in our imagination, he also had the best honey and I've never had any that tasted quite like it since. Now I'm partial to Anarchy Apiaries honey from the Hudson Valley and was recently gifted some Oregon Old Blue Raw Feagles Creek blackberry and thistle honey from Camille Storch that I'm saving for something special.
For this Pine Nut & Honey tart, I used wildflower honey from Singer's Glen, Virginia's Golden Angels Apiary-- a local honey available at Whole Foods P. Street as part of their work to support pollinators and restore wildflower habitats). I paired it with a lighter Italian lime blossom honey. Martha's original recipe (yes, we're on a first-name basis) called for additional sugar in the filling, but I didn't want to detract from the complex honey flavor, and frankly it didn't need any more sweetness. The pine nuts added a great savory crunch and together the combination felt rather Mediterranean-- like something Claude Qui Dort might eat.
Pine Nut and Honey Tart
Adapted from Martha Stewart
Makes a 10-inch deep-dish tart
For the crust:
1/4 cup heavy cream or whole milk
1 large egg
1 large egg yolk
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 1/3 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for surface
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon coarse salt
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 1/4 sticks unsalted butter, cold and cut into small pieces
For the filling:
1/3 cup amber or dark-amber honey (I used Golden Angels Apiary wildflower honey)
1/4 cup light amber honey (I used lime blossom honey)
1 teaspoon sea salt
1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 large egg
1 large egg yolk
1 1/2 cups pine nuts
For the crust:
1. In a medium bowl, whisk together cream, egg and egg yolk, and vanilla and set aside. In the bowl of a food processor, pulse flour, sugar, salt, and baking powder until homogenous. Add butter, and pulse until mixture resembles cornmeal and peas. With the machine running, add the cream mixture, and process just until the dough begins to come together. Shape dough into a flat disc, and wrap in plastic wrap. Refrigerate until firm, about 1 hour.
2. Preheat oven to 325 degrees F. On a clean and lightly floured surface, roll out dough to about 1/8-inch thickness. (My dough was pretty sticky and soft, so I ended up mostly piecing it together). Cut out a 14-inch round, and fit it into a greased and floured 10-inch springform tart or cake pan with a removable ring, pulling tart dough about 2 inches up the sides and creating a thick rim. Place in freezer while you prepare the filling.
For the filling:
1. In a medium saucepan over medium heat, bring honeys and salt to a boil, whisking constantly. Remove from heat, add butter, and whisk until melted. Transfer the honey mixture to a medium bowl, and let cool for 30 minutes. Once cool, whisk in the cream, egg, and egg yolk until combined.
2. Place tart pan on a baking sheet with a rim. Scatter pine nuts over the bottom of the crust and slowly pour filling over the nuts, redistributing pine nuts evenly with your fingers if needed. Bake until crust is golden brown and center is set but still slightly wobbly, about 1 hour. Transfer the tart to a wire rack, and let cool completely. Remove ring from pan and serve immediately.
Meyer Lemon Honey Marmalade Linzer Torte
Salty Honey Pie
Swiss Chard & Goat Cheese Galette (with pine nuts)
Thank you to Whole Foods P St. for supplying the honey, pine nuts and eggs for this recipe. No additional compensation provided and all opinions my own.