Hey! Who You Calling A Tart?

Here we have them -- The Gang of Four.
Four un-loved apples, rescued from the refrigerator crisper,
and looking slightly the worse for not being fresh off the tree.

Some apples are beautiful.

Some, as you see, are not.

We're going to take these round little sows' ears and turn them into lovely silk purses.

But since no one really wants to eat a silk purse, especially one made from pig ears,
we will make an Apple Tart instead.

Let's begin:


My Mom taught me to slice my raw apples directly into the pie plate, before putting in the crust,
to make sure I had enough filling because it cooks down so much.

We're not doing that today. We'll just eyeball the quantity of apples needed.
As it turns out, we only need to execute 3 of them. The 4th is given a reprieve by the Governor.


This is the hardest part of making an Apple Tart. No, not hardest. Most tedious. Why can't apples peel and slice themselves when you want them to? Probably for the same reasons that nice clean dishes won't hop out of the dishwasher and put themselves away.

Wouldn't that be cool? I'd buy dishes that could do that, and sell all my others on Ebay.

Okay, next!

Sugar the apples. You have to taste them to see how much sugar you need.
Me, I like a tart tart. Get it? Tart tart? I crack myself up.

Then pile on the cinnamon. Again, your choice.
Less cinnamon than sugar.

Finally, a bit of flour to thicken the juices. Use your judgment.

More flour if the apples are very juicy.

Toss in a pinch of salt, with a squeeze of fresh lemon juice if the apples are very sweet.
Take your crust -- confession: I used a refrigerated crust for this --
so it was simply a matter of patting it into place on the baking sheet.

Dump your nicely spiced and sugared apples onto the middle of the dough, and then
take the edges of the dough and pull them up over the apples,
pinching as you go to keep the dough tight around the filling.

You leave the center nekkid of crust.

Now, into a 375-degree oven. Baking is magic.
It will take about 45 minutes to get the tart nice and browned.
But watch it! Ovens and apples vary wildly.

While it bakes -- a disclaimer.  This pastry is more accurately called a galette.  Not a tart.
But tart is just so much funnier, don't you think?
Okay, we now return to our regularly scheduled program, and the tart is out of the oven.

I use a stoneware baking sheet to crisp up the dough:

It's no great beauty, but it will be warm and juicy and delicious.

See?

Okay, one piece gone. Who is next?

Don't forget to visit Designs By Gollum
for more Foodie Friday posts.

That's an order, or No Tart For You!

Thanks, Michael, for hosting. Now, I think I'll see what I can do with a couple of past-their-prime pears. . . . -- Cass

P.S. Mr. Dion DiPoochy appreciates all the nice comments he has gotten from people who tell him he is cute; he is basking in the attention. He insisted on being a part of this post. He thinks this means he will also get a piece of Apple Tart. He is mistaken in this. But that's all right; he will just go back to sleep on his Wally Bed, next to my desk and right next to the steam radiator. Doggy heaven.