free-form fig tart

in effort to get myself back on track,

i invited my family for dinner.

i spent one week thinking and

talking about making lasagna,

but it wasn't until the morning of

that i actually started to look

at recipes.

i've said before that when i'm

cooking a bunch of things, i

prefer to wake up with the

ingredients already in the house.

it was unsettling to make a list

at 11am, leave the house, head

to two grocery stores to collect

five different kinds of cheeses,

three packages of lasagna noodles,

a lot of romaine,

several cans of plum tomatoes,

two loaves of bread,

three heads of garlic

and many other odds and ends.

on the menu:

romaine salad with slow-roasted tomatoes and blue cheese

butternut squash, hazelnut and sage lasagna

spicy turkey sausage and spinach lasagna

garlic bread with chives and lemon zest

fig tart with vanilla bean ice cream

it was a lot.

i even - and this is hard for me

to admit - made a list.

and that's why, when we got home

at 12:30, i started cooking,

grabbed my camera and took

exactly two pictures.

it wasn't until

i pulled the lasagnas out of the oven

that i remembered the camera,

lonely and abandoned,

on the far end of the kitchen.

the lasagnas were a huge hit

and probably catapulted the

night to the top of our dinner

party list. but, without any pictures,

they're a hard sell. so, instead,

i want to tell you about the

delicious, gorgeously rustic,

fig tart.

truth be told,

there aren't many pictures

of the fig tart either,

but this is a dessert that

is both so fast, lovely and simple that

i still feel ok talking about it.

two days before the dinner,

i decided to make crack pie -

we've talked about it in our

office many times and when

the recipe appeared in the

september issue of bon appetit,

i was thrilled. even though

it's a multi-step dessert -

asking you to make cookies,

then grind them up to form

the crust, i knew that it would

be worth it and that my family

would love the pie.

the day before, i started to doubt

the whole thing. i had to work

late that night and i still

didn't have lasagna recipes

chosen. i switched my focus

to a chess pie, a dessert that

every summer i vow to make,

but never do.

but, now it was the morning

of the dinner. i had gotten

home from work at 9pm

the night before and in spite

of drinking two cups of coffee,

i was still feeling that

maybe i unknowingly took

a sleeping pill last night feeling

(i hadn't). between the yet to be picked

lasagna recipes and the tomatoes,

i knew that i would need the oven

for most of the afternoon,

i was again doubting my choice.

and just like that,

the chess pie was out.

i don't remember what i searched

in google. but, the best fig tart, ever,

from chez pim popped up in the first

spot. i scanned the recipe, looked at

the pictures, understood that i would

have to commit to spending a pretty

penny on a lot of figs, that i would

have to make an almond filling

and that i would have to make pastry dough.

i also realized that it is fig season,

that the whole dessert could look a little

imperfect and still be delicious and that

after years of fearing homemade pie dough,

i can now hold my own.

so, somewhere in between

roasting the squash and frying the sage leaves,

i tossed

flour,

sugar,

salt,

butter and

water into the food processor.

while i peeled the roasted garlic,

larry grabbed the dough, flattened

it into a disk and covered with plastic

wrap and chilled until ready to use.

as larry started to cook the sausage,

i tossed roasted almonds and sugar

into the food processor before adding

butter and an egg. the mixture was really

thin, but at that moment the bechamel

started to boil, so i switched gears. when

i returned to the frangipane, it had

thickened nicely.

and when all parts

of both lasagnas were just waiting to be

assembled, i quartered the ripe,

sweet black mission figs, rolled the dough

into a shape that sort of resembled a circle,

and spread the frangipane to just an inch

of the edge. i added the figs, from the inside

out, in sort of concentric circles and folded

the dough in to form a crust.

i sighed and realized that even though i really

didn't want to, i would later regret not

brushing the dough with an egg wash. so i did,

before sprinkling on coarse sugar crystals.

dessert was made and it took less than 20 minutes.

i loosely covered the tart, placed it

back in the fridge and kept it there

until we sat down to eat the salads.

while we ate, the tart baked,

sweetly scenting the house

with caramel and jam.

i wasn't sure which way my family

would fall with this tart - figs are not

something we saw

a lot of growing up. but later,

after playing a very passionate

game of catchphrase, i cut seven slices

and larry added a scoop of vanilla ice cream

to each. we sat around the table.

we ate. just a couple crumbs were left

on only a few plates.

and that night,

i fell asleep glad that we pulled

off a marathon dinner in only a fraction

of the time. i was glad that when

my family arrived, the kitchen

was clean and i was calmly tearing

romaine leaves into a bowl. i was

glad that everyone had a good time.

and, i was glad, that even though

i can often go a little overboard

in the kitchen and out,

i'm starting to know where

to draw the line.

free-form fig tart

adapted from chez pim

i used my standby recipe for the dough that i've written about several times. it's worth repeating it here, so that you don't have to worry about going to another page. als0 - it's up to you, but i always re-chill my pies and tarts for at least 20 minutes before baking to ensure that the dough firms back up, producing a flaky crust. i used black mission figs, but i think that if you find fresh turkish figs in the market, you would enjoy a tart made with those, too.

the almond paste mixture calls for a combination of confectioners' sugar and granulated sugar. if you do not have confectioners' just use 1/3 cup total of granulated sugar.

one more thing: i didn't realize this until i started to write out the recipe, but apparently, i really should not pretend that i can handle math. the recipe called for 75 grams of butter, which i thought i had successfully converted to tablespoons. however, upon further inspection attempting to reconvert for you, it looks like i undershot. and that, probably, is why my almond filling was so thin. below, the correct amount.

pastry dough:

10 tablespoons cold unsalted butter

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon kosher salt

1 teaspoon granulated sugar

1-3 tablespoons ice cold water

cut butter into cubes; place back in fridge until ready to use. in bowl of food processor fitted with the dough attachment, pulse together flour, salt and sugar until combined. add cold butter; pulse just until combined and the mixture resembles small pebbles. with food processor running, drizzle in 1 tablespoon water through tube. continue to drizzle in water, a few drops at a time, just until the mixture combines and forms a cohesive dough. form dough into a ball and flatten into a disc; wrap in plastic wrap. keep in fridge until ready to use.

frangipane

heaping 1/2 cup whole almonds, toasted and cooled

1/4 cup confectioners' sugar

1/8 cup granulated sugar

1/3 cup butter, at room temperature

1 large egg, at room temperature

in bowl of food processor, combine almonds and sugar; process until fine. add the butter and the egg; pulse until completely combined. chill three quarters of the mixture for another use.

fig tart

pastry dough

1/4 frangipane mixture

15 medium black mission figs, quartered

1 egg, beaten with 1 tablespoon water

coarse sugar

heat oven to 400˚f. place dough between two pieces of plastic wrap; using rolling pin, roll dough into 11" round. transfer round to a parchment paper-lined baking sheet, removing plastic wrap. spread dough with frangipane, leaving a 1" border.

starting in the center, place figs on top of frangipane, leaving 1" border. fold dough over figs, pressing to secure.

using pastry brush, coat dough with egg mixture (use a paper towel to carefully sop up any egg that has dripped onto the parchment paper). sprinkle liberally with coarse sugar.

chill loosely covered at least 20 minutes. bake 40-50 minutes, or until golden brown. let cool at least 10 minutes before serving.

roasted baby brussels sprouts with lemon and almonds

i guess i can say that growing up,

my sisters and i were pretty lucky

when it came to vegetables.

none of us were especially picky

eaters. sure, one of us went through

a stage where nothing leafy and green

(read: parsley) could be on her food,

and for one, my mom had to lie and

say we were not eating brown rice

with dinner, but 'special rice' and maybe,

one of us decided for no real reason

to give up meat, chicken and turkey

at the age of twelve. and, yes, none

of us enjoyed indian food. but still,

we were relatively agreeable for kids,

not only willing, but excited to eat

calamari, lobster, clams and mussels,

avocados and pine nuts,

gefilte fish, chopped liver and lox.

maybe it was because we were

generally so willing to try things -

when it came to vegetables,

my mom let us be.

they were always on the table,

always offered to us,

and sometimes heavily encouraged,

but never insisted upon.

i remember eating dinner

at friend's houses, and later, babysitting,

for people, who would not let

their children leave the table until

every piece of

spinach,

broccoli,

carrot,

was consumed.

and i always felt for them.

i think my mom

(who please understand, still

had her demands, like making

us drink a glass of milk

with. every. single. meal.

regardless of whether it was

peanut butter & jelly or chicken or pizza

and instated a one-sweet-a-week rule)

wanted us to come to the vegetables

on our own, learn to love them

as she did, instead of looking

at them as something negative.

and we did.

it would be impossible

to enjoy

or appreciate

farmer's markets,

otherwise.

and, fortunately, in finding

my inner vegetable lover,

i found brussels sprouts.

it is an old story that

boiled sprouts gave these

green rounds their bad name,

but i'd rather focus on the already

old-news new story:

when roasted, sauteed, blanched,

slivered, separated and shaved

they are amazing.

my favorite way is,

of course roasted:

halved and tossed with

olive oil, then cooked at

a high heat until they

are browned

and slightly crisp

and almost sweet.

simple.

when i found baby brussels sprouts

on sunday, so tiny that they

looked too cute not to buy

(yes, i am a sucker),

i brought them home.

this was not the time to thinly slice,

or pull apart into tiny leaves.

instead, i wanted to keep them whole,

roast them and enjoy them like popcorn

(on the side of a sensible meal, of course).

once trimmed

(which oh goodness, reminds me:

there are a ton of brussels sprouts

in a 1 pound bag of minis -

this took a while),

tossed with olive oil

and sprinkled with salt,

i got to work toasting almonds

and garlic together, zesting

and juicing a lemon and waiting.

i didn't have to wait long.

they were browned and sizzling

in 12 minutes. as soon as they came

out of the oven, i emptied the pan

into a bowl with everything else,

shook until it was combined

and, well, that was it.

this recipe is not winning

an award for longest,

trickiest or

most ingredients.

because they cook so fast

and are so small,

you're able to get a relatively

well-rounded brown,

which is great for me -

i like my veggies ultra dark.

extra caramelization =

extra delicious.

and that's what these were,

tiny temptations so good,

i think any kid would have

trouble resisting them.

roasted baby brussels sprouts with lemon and almonds

if these were missing anything, i think it may have been a sprinkling of grated parm, but we were eating them as a side dish for fish. next time, i would add the cheese. normally i'm pretty strict about my mise en place, but this was so no-frill that i was able to stick the brussels sprouts in the oven and have everything ready to toss by the time they came out. and, i know that it's odd to cook the garlic in a dry pan - i was actually skeptical when i decided to do it - but the process worked. they didn't get brown, they just softened enough to lose their strong bite and they cooked a bit more when tossed with the steaming hot sprouts.

1 pound baby brussels sprouts, ends trimmed

1 tablespoon olive oil

kosher salt and cracked black pepper

1/4 cup slivered almonds

3 cloves garlic, peeled and thinly sliced

1 lemon, zested and halved

heat oven to 400˚f. place brussels sprouts on rimmed aluminum foil-lined baking sheet; drizzle with olive oil. sprinkle generously with kosher salt and cracked black pepper. bake 12 minutes, or until spotted with golden deep brown spots, shaking pan twice during cooking to rotate vegetables.

meanwhile, place almonds in small skillet. toast over medium-low heat until just starting to color. add garlic slivers and cook 1 or 2 minutes more, or until garlic is no longer raw and almonds are nicely browned, but not burnt.

place vegetables in bowl; add garlic-almond mixture. squeeze 1/2 lemon over brussels sprouts, catching seeds. add 1 teaspoon lemon zest. toss to combine. season with kosher salt and pepper. transfer to serving bowl. top with strips of lemon peel, if desired.

farmer's market find: garlic scapes

last weekend,

we woke up on sunday morning

crossing our fingers that

it wasn't raining.

it was.

yet, we must have mustered up

all of our determination

because within 10 minutes,

it was only drizzling,

and 10 minutes after that,

it had stopped.

too worried to tempt fate,

we quickly tossed on

jeans

zip-ups,

flip-flops,

grabbed our reusable bags

and hopped in the car.

we had spent all week

talking about the newly

opened tenafly farmer's market

and we were going, come...

well, come wet weather or not.

we spent the first five minutes

looking, scoping everything out,

and the next 15 shopping for

freshly shelled peas

icicle radishes

teeny baby carrots

and baby red onions.

we turned to leave, nearly missing

a new crate at the table

we had visited first.

i was so excited to see garlic scapes.

i've heard about them,

know that they're the stalks that grow

from the garlic plant itself and

are certainly garlicky, but a mild

cousin of its cloves.

but i had never before tried them and

didn't really know what to do with them.

regardless, i grabbed a large handful.

once home, i ran to my

cookbooks

and

the internet,

learning that the most common

use was pesto. i didn't really want

to use them that way -

i had just made a pesto

two weeks before

and i have issues,

always feeling like i need

to step outside the box.

but, after a little while,

i decided not to fight

it and just make a batch myself.

every time i thought about

the pesto, however,

i worried that

the garlic would be too strong,

leading me to the decision to

cut the scapes into 1-inch(ish) lengths

and quickly saute the pieces first.

this taught me two things:

sauteed scapes are amazing,

and could pass for garlicky asparagus.

the second, is that cooking significantly

minimizes the garlic level.

so much so,

that when i tossed them

into the food processor with

toasted almonds

and grated parm,

i also added two raw scapes

to give the mixture more punch.

and, yes, i tend not to use nearly

enough olive oil in my pestos,

but still, i thought the blend

was lacking flavor.

so i tossed in more parm,

some lemon juice,

another scape

and finally, relentingly,

basil.

i didn't want to use the basil.

this was supposed to be

a garlic scape pesto.

i wanted the pesto to maintain

the beautiful peridot green

it was busy boasting,

not turn a deep emerald.

but after a 1/4 cup,

and another

and another,

it was clear that i had

made the right decision.

the basil simply heightened

the other ingredients,

while adding an herbal touch

that made a big difference,

overall.

that first night, i tossed

a big spoonful with

adorable mini gnocchi,

more toasted almonds and a

significant splash of the pasta's

cooking water.

fast and delicious - and the hot

water more than made up for

not using a huge amount of olive

oil (by pesto's standards).

a couple nights later,

i dolloped the leftovers over

pizza dough along with

shrimp

mozzarella

red pepper flakes

finely chopped preserved meyer lemon

and a couple whole

raw garlic scapes.

both ways, very good.

both ways, very fresh.

if i stumble across another crate

at a future farmer's market,

i will buy them.

but because they

were so remarkable both

sauteed

and

roasted,

those would probably be my go to dishes.

or maybe, this, which i'm regretting

i didn't see earlier (and wouldn't have

been able to tell you about if i had actually

posted this entry according to my planned

timetable, yesterday). turn anything

into a hummus-like dip,

and i'm curious.

add these curly cue stalks,

and i'm sold.

garlic scape pesto

this pesto is absolutely saucier when first made - it firms up significantly after a stay in the fridge. if you want a mixture with more olive oil, drizzle in extra, stopping when the blended veggies no longer absorb the oil.

15 garlic scapes, divided

3/4 cup fresh basil

1/3 cup almonds, toasted

1/2 cup grated parm

1/2 large juicy lemon, juiced

kosher salt

cracked black pepper

1/3 cup olive oil

cut 12 scapes into 1" lengths. over medium-high heat, warm large skillet coated with cooking spray or olive oil. when hot, add garlic scapes and cook 1 to 2 minutes, or until crisp tender (try one - the garlic level should not overwhelm you). let cool. meanwhile, cut remaining scapes into 1" lengths (or, cut all at one time and separate the 12 from the 3 immediately).

in bowl of food processor, combine cooked and uncooked garlic scapes, basil, toasted almonds and grated parm. pulse several times or until finely chopped and combined. add lemon juice; season with salt and pepper to taste. pulse twice. while motor is running, slowly drizzle in olive oil until emulsified, adding more if necessary or desired. use immediately or cover and refrigerate. you can also freeze pesto.