My backyard is being transformed into a garden. For me, this is a dream come true. I took a day off to accomplish a list of things, but instead of creating recipes and taking photos, I am drinking iced tea with lemon and mint, showing the gardener and crew where I would like to plant the large pots of jasmine, bougainvillea, and creeping fig. Digging holes with a spade to plant lavender and rosemary, I’ve got my hands and feet in the soil. My senses are renewed by the scent of earth.
A green beetle flies around drowsily, then a butterfly. My bare feet sink into the damp grass. The budding fruit on the orange tree fills my heart with promise, and reminds me that only last year I lived in a small two bedroom apartment with my three children, just dreaming of this moment.
It is even in my kitchen that I am realizing what for many years felt impossible in times of single parenthood struggles. As the bounty of farmers’ market produce spills onto my kitchen island, I am overjoyed by the abundance of summer recipes in progress. My colander filled to the brim with juicy cherry tomatoes hand plucked from a friend’s garden, the stems a-top like little green bows, such gifts of exploding sweetness on the tongue. With a drizzle of olive oil and a sprinkle of sea salt, I slice them in half and roast them very lightly. Fresh pops of cherry tomatoes are just as good or perhaps better in a green bean salad. I serve it cold, simply dressed in a miso cashew vinaigrette and toss it together with quinoa. Parsley too, cilantro.
The plums were just too beautiful for words.
In the fruit stall at the farmers’ market, stunned by their beauty, the dark purple plums heavy with ripeness, globes of crimson violet fit perfectly in the palm of my hand. Baskets full of such plums— Santa Rosa, Black Beauty, Yellow plums— bedazzled by the many jeweled colors as the waft of their jammy fragrance meets my nose, I’m in awe of their splendor. In bliss, I close my eyes as the farmer behind the table slices a plum and hands me a sliver of fleshy fruit. It’s so sweet.
This is how I found the plums.
Soon I held plastic bags full of them. With a toothy grin, the farmer hands them to me, sprinkling change into my hands. In my canvas grocery tote, I place the plums gently. In a wink, he says, “Enjoy.”
Walking with heavy loads of produce in each hand, I collected colorful sweet peppers along the way, bouquets of basil, mint, marjoram, rosemary, purple basil, and a wildly grown bunch of spinach. Much to my dismay, the squash blossoms in my refrigerator faded quickly due to their fragility.
I had planned to make something special with the squash blossoms, a raw vegan recipe using pistachios, cashew cream, pesto, and purple basil leaves.
I want to savor each day like a ripe plum eaten from the market stall.
“Today, standing in my kitchen, grinding fresh-roasted spices with a mortar and pestle, holding those ancient implements in my hands, watching, feeling, hearing, touching, inhaling and imagining my friends enjoying the flavors, I thought: This is it. This is life. What else could I want?” — Rob Ackerman
In a tangle of depression, frustration, and annoyance, I’ve overseasoned and undercooked things. I would not be able to serve dinner in such a situation, nor would I feed my children and partner such disasters without adding the taste of love, joy, and happiness.
“Tita knew through her own flesh how fire transforms the elements, how a lump of corn flour is changed into a tortilla, how a soul that hasn’t been warmed by the fire of love is lifeless, like a useless ball of corn flour.” — Laura Esquivel, Like Water for Chocolate
Being present and completely attending to the act of making something, such as a tart dough, is a meditation. You can give everything to it. You have the time. Being present brings us to the center of our heart.
The sweetness of ripe plums. It becomes love from the earth, from the tree, from the sun.
I contemplate the happiest moments of my life while I cook and prepare. With a pinch of salt, reflect on what I am grateful for and how I am using my past challenges to make me appreciate my present. Cup of sugar, the birth of each one of my children, witnessing their eyes opening for the first time, looking deeply into their newborn faces. Add two teaspoons of vanilla. To add kindness, don’t over mix your dough. Feel the texture with your fingers, skip the mixer.
Since the essential ingredient for this recipe asks for ripe plums, please use them right away. Eat them in the kitchen as you decide upon exactly how you want to make this dessert. This is important: taste the plums first. If they aren’t anything special, consider blueberries or raspberries instead.
You can also make a crumble rather than a tart.
Plum Tart with Hazelnut Crust
FOR THE PÂTE SABLÉE (Hazelnut Crust):
- 2 1/3 cups all-purpose whole wheat flour, plus more for dusting
- 1/3 cup hazelnut flour
- 1 cup confectioners’ sugar
- 1/3 cup coconut sugar
- 6 ounces French-style butter (such as Plugrà), plus more for greasing pan, at room temperature
- ½ teaspoon fine sea salt
- 1 tablespoon vanilla extract (always add more if you desire)
- 5 egg yolks
- zest of 1 lemon
- 1 tablespoon Chambord liqueur to thin the jam (optional)
- ½ cup plum jam (mixed berry jam if you can’t find plum)
- 5-6 ripe plums
- powdered sugar, for dusting (optional)
- ground hazelnuts, for dusting
To make the hazelnut flour: Place hazelnuts on a sheet pan lined with parchment and roast for 15 minutes. Keep your eyes on them, don’t let them burn, please. Roll the hazelnuts on the sheet pan by giving them a shake. When toasted, remove from the oven and cool for 15 minutes. Place in a bag or a dish towel. Seal bag and gently roll over nuts with a rolling pin. Put the hazelnuts into a high speed blender (Vitamix) and pulse until a fine powder.
Make the pâte sablée: Sift flour, hazelnut flour and confectioners’ sugar into separate bowls. Place butter, salt and sifted all-purpose whole wheat flour in the bowl. Mix with your fingers and use your hands to crumble the butter until the flour and butter just come together. Add sifted hazelnut flour and confectioners’ sugar. Continue to crumble and mix with your fingers until ingredients are lightly fluffed and blended.
Here’s where it gets sticky and sensual. Add vanilla extract and egg yolks, mixing with your fingers until ingredients come together. Scrape dough out of bowl with your hands and a spatula. Press into a 1/2-inch-thick round shape. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight to rest.
Unwrap dough and cut into two equal pieces. Wrap one piece and refrigerate or freeze for use in another tart.
Prepare the tart shell:
Butter a 9-inch metal tart pan with a removable bottom very lightly and evenly. Place parchment paper on a work surface and dust lightly with flour. Pound the dough gently with a rolling pin to make it soft. Roll dough out carefully to about 1/4-inch thickness, frequently rotating it to roll evenly. Work it at a steady pace so the dough doesn’t warm up and get sticky. Dust with flour if necessary.
Cut a circle around with a knife that is a little larger than the tart pan. I use the tart ring as a guide by setting it on top of the dough. Keep the excess dough on the side for shaping the crust edges. Lightly dust dough with flour. Wrap dough loosely around rolling pin to lift it up from work surface, then immediately unroll it onto tart pan. You can also turn the tart pan upside down upon the dough and flip it into the pan.
Gently guide dough down the sides of the pan with your fingers, making sure that dough leaves no gap between the bottom edge of the sides of the pan and the bottom. Shape the edge of the crust by pressing and pinching the dough into the mold of the tart pan. Trim away excess dough hanging over edges. Refrigerate tart shell, uncovered, for at least 1 hour to rest, preferably overnight.
Assemble the tart:
Heat oven to 325 degrees.
Remove tart shell from refrigerator. With a fork, poke holes in the dough, 1 inch apart.
Bake tart for 20 minutes, until crust is golden and the tip of a paring knife comes out clean when inserted. You can check on the tart shell to make sure it isn’t over-baked. You will want the crust to be like a shortbread cookie texture. Remove from oven and cool on a wire rack for 30 minutes.
Remove tart from the ring, leaving the base intact to support the tart. With a small spatula or brush, spread jam over surface in an even layer (If jam is too stiff to spread easily, place it in a small saucepan and warm it slightly first on top of the stove. A dash of Chambord liqueur gives it dimension and thins the jam).
Arrange fresh plums on the jammy surface. Just before serving, sprinkle with ground hazelnuts among the plums and dust with powdered sugar.
The tart is best when eaten the day it is made, but can be refrigerated for a day.
YIELD One 9-inch tart, plus dough for an additional tart shell
Adapted From Martha Rose Schulman’s “Raspberry Hazelnut Tart” recipe via original recipe from “The Art of French Pastry” by Jacquy Pfeiffer