I had a music potluck to go to yesterday. I started thinking Friday night about what I would make: it came down to orange pound cake made with orange juice and zest, a repeat of the St. Patrick’s Day knishes sans Canadian bacon in deference to vegetarian singers, or a pear tart tatin. Those of you who read about our grocery finds a few posts ago will recall that I bought three pounds of Bosc pears. I have roasted pears to eat as dessert and I have included roasted pears in a few winter soups, but I had never before made a tart tatin. I was somewhat swayed by the thought that I had one pie crust waiting in the fridge. I was also swayed by the fact that I greatly prefer pie to cake and I love fruit desserts.
As it turned out, the pie crust in the fridge was a little too crumbly and a little too small and I ended up making a whole new batch: now we have old leftover crust and new leftover crust. Oh well: making and eating things with pie crust does not trouble us in this household.
While I used my Mom’s never-fail pie crust recipe for the tart tatin, I used the method and ingredients for the most part described in Chez Panisse Desserts, with one change, two additions and one error, which may have proved beneficial.
Alice Waters and Lindsey Sher give the ingredients as one 10-inch circle of pie dough or puff pastry, 1/2 cup sugar, 2 Tbsp unsalted butter, about 5 medium Bosc or Winter Neli pears and an optional tablespoon of rum, Cognac, brandy or Armagnac. I used salted butter, eight small Bosc pears, and rum. I added 1/2 Tbsp of vanilla extract and a sprinkling of ginger. Waters and Sher say to bake the tart at 400 degrees, which I would have done, except, despite reading the recipe, I had set my oven at 350.
If you don’t have pie crust on hand, you’ll have to make that first. You will find my Mom’s recipe here. If you make it, you will have three more crusts, or at least two and a half because Mom’s recipe makes four crusts (It is hard to make less with her recipe because it calls for a whole egg).
Once you have gotten your pie crust made, set it to chill in the refrigerator while you prepare the other ingredients. It’s up to you whether you want to peel and core pears first or make caramel first. At any rate, you will be peeling and coring pears. You can use halves or quarters in the tart. I used halves, which looked quite nice. I put the tablespoon of rum and the half-tablespoon of vanilla in the bowl with the peeled, halved pears.
I then got out a cast iron skillet and set it on medium heat. I added the butter and sugar to the skillet and stirred with a wooden spoon until the caramel turned light brown, at which time I removed the pan from the heat and continued to stir. The caramel continues to darken: you keep stirring it so that it turns evenly instead of darkening in any hot spots. Mine came out a lovely, reddish brown.
Place the pears in the caramel in a circle with the narrow ends pointing to the center. I had a small, pear-less circle in the center, which I filled by cutting the last pear into smaller pieces. I put my pears cut-side down, although Alice and Lindsey say to put the rounded side down. You are going to flip this dessert over after it is baked, so, whichever way you do it, it is going to come out the opposite. My brain does not like to think in reversals (it gets confused). Do what you like. When you have got your pears looking all pretty and symmetrical, you are going to put the pastry over the top. Before I did this, I poured the leftover vanilla-rum mixture over the pears and sprinkled them with perhaps 1 tsp powdered ginger. I folded the crust in quarters, then unfolded it over the fruit, tucking the edges down into the sides of the pan since this crust will end up being the tart base. I also, as instructed, pushed the dough gently into the pears — it forms a slight wave pattern, molding around the curves of the pears. Cut a few slits in the crust and transfer the tart to your hot (or not so hot) oven.
I checked my tart after 30 minutes — that’s when I discovered my temperature error: plenty of browned juices bubbled up, but the crust was not brown. I cranked the oven up to 400 and let the tart bake for another 20 minutes until the crust was properly browned. My error with the oven temperature may have caused deeper caramelization of the fruit, which I happen to like, and had no ill effects on the caramel or the crust, save needing extra time for browning.
When the crust has browned to your satisfaction, remove the tart from the oven and let it sit for a few minutes — the pan will be really hot. When you are ready for the next step, take a plate larger than your skillet, place the plate on top of the pan and carefully invert the skillet onto the plate. With any luck, your tart will come out whole. If a pear or two get left behind, just use a spoon to transfer them back to their place on the tart. If you have lost a bit of crust, you will have the pleasure of sampling the caramel-infused crust: the caramel layer transforms basic pie crust into a new delight.
Mom dug out the top of a popsicle mold, which we plopped in the center of the tart to hold the wrappings away from the fruit. I wrapped the tart in two layers of aluminum foil and carted it off on the bus in the rain to my friend Elaine’s house. The singers consumed every scrap of the tart. Toni had three pieces. Elaine, who does not like Bosc pears, had two. Elaine said she would like the tart made with stone fruit. I said I thought it might be delicious with fresh figs. We have to wait for those fruits, but some pears are in season now. I was pleased with how easy it was to make a dessert that had intimidated me (the caramel, the flipping, the careful arrangement of the fruit, would the crust withstand the weight of the tart and all of that caramel? Would it leak?). Trust me, friends — if I can do it, you can do it.
Food Notes: If you are afraid of pie crust, you can also make this with frozen puff pastry. I recommend, however, that you visit your nearest crust expert to overcome this fear. Most pie bakers would be glad to help you learn to make pie crust.
Now I would have had seconds and thirds had I been at that music potluck of yours!
I restrained myself, Smidge. (but I ate all of the caramel left in the skillet after I removed the tart!).
I just made this, inspired by your wonderful recipe! I added some strawberries, halved, for a rosette in the middle of the pears. I happened to have St. George Aqua Perfecta, a “Poire Williams” type liqueur, to sprinkle on the pears. Can’t wait to see how it turns out! More of your everyday magic. Yum.
Wow! I bet it would be good with Poire Williams. Let me know how it turns out!
I love your beautiful painting! It caught my attention immediately! This is a delicious recipe, Sharyn. You are so creative–and I thank you for the substitution of frozen puff pastry. I do well with puff pastry, but I have never made a good pie crust! Of course there is a part of me that thinks I shouldn’t give up. I do know this sounds scrumptious to me 🙂 Debra
I think it is more common to make this with puff pastry, Debra, but I am more comfortable with homely pie crust. You can thank Lindsey Sher and Alice Waters for the recipe. Glad you like the painting.
This sounds like a great dish, Sharyn, and judging by its reception, I don’t think I’m off base. It’s great when a dish you bring to a potluck is devoured, isn’t it?
You’re right, John. It’s gratifying when people enjoy the food you make. I’ll be making this tart again.
Your descriptions are so vivid I can almost imagine I am eating it all 😀
Sounds simply wonderful!
Cheers
Choc Chip Uru
Latest: Very Nutelly Saturday
Thank you, C.C.U. — what a nice thing to say.
It’s always nice when you create something that has had you intimidated and it turns out perfect! Way to go! 🙂
I agree. Thanks.
Thanks for sharing your mother’s pie crust recipe. This tart sounds fantastic!
You are welcome — I never make pie crust without it.
I would definitely have been sneaking extra pieces of this tart if I’d been at the potluck, Sharyn. It sounds so divine with the caramelization and the pear/ginger/rum flavors. It really is making my mouth water thinking about it!
It was very good, Betsy. What surprised me is that it takes no more sugar than any fruit pie and just a little extra butter to make the caramel. I’ll definitely make it again and experiment with variations.
Now you’ve done it, I’m hungry. 🙂
Well, eat something Susan — it doesn’t have to be pear tart tatin this time.
Love, love, love the painting. My grandmother used to make this for Easter dinner. I hadn’t thought it in years. If I am ambitious I make try this for our family Easter dinner.
Thanks, Jane. Painting the wheel of pears was fun! You can do it. It really looks much more difficult than it is.
Sounds wonderful – and by that I mean both the gathering and the dish!
Thanks, Shira. We have a good time, being singers who like to sing and love to eat.
Count me in! I love tart tatin, but with your delicious pears it sounds even more fabulous. And well done for getting on the bus (in the rain no less) and with the tart!
Thank you, Claire. I’ll get around to the apple one in the summer, but I look forward to experimenting with some other fruits as we get them.
This is crazy…I want to go home and make a pear tart!! It sounds really good Sharyn and I know I have all the ingredients on hand! (it’s crazy cuz I simply have no time, but I want to try this so badly) You always make the process sound so enticing!!
The recipe will keep, Linda, for when you have time to make it (but it doesn’t take very long — maybe you could pack a few boxes while it is baking!)
I think every single one of your articles includes a sudden, matter-of-fact affirmation that is like a ha! ha! moment. It comes naturally in a tongue-in-cheek tone. I love these and look for them now. This is what jumped at me today: “It’s up to you whether you want to peel and core pears first or make caramel first. At any rate, you will be peeling and coring pears.” And I especially love the colors in today’s painting as well. And I see that you are at Granny’s Parlour while I am here, so I am eager to discover what you had to say. Have a great day.
Thanks, Granny. I guess I’m just thinking that in some recipes the order matters and there really is a labor-saving way to do things. In others, not so much. The colors: I find that browns are tricky — they want to take over the world and Bosc pears are tricky because they have so much brown in them, so I used a strong blue-violet, an echo of yellow and a blued-green to balance the composition.
… So you adapt your colors as you adapt ingredients in recipes, to secure the right texture and flavor in the right balance! 🙂 @ Granny: Yes. It’s intuitive and visual, kind of like tasting your batter or soup and adjusting it.
Do you know the story of Tart Tatin? I was told this sweet little anecdote by our host in our Riad in Morocco. It seems that there were two Tatin sisters who lived on a farm. The sisters cooked regularly for their husbands. One afternoon, after cooking all day, they decided to make pie, but in their conversation they forgot to put the pastry on the bottom of the pie plate before filling it heaping full of fruit. So instead of throwing out the crust, they simply put it on top of the fruit and there you have it…Tart Tatin! I’m not sure how true it is, I haven’t Googled it, but then again, it doesn’t really matter, it just a cute little story.
I bet yours was very happily received.
I had not heard this story. Thank you, Eva!
The tart sounds great. This fall when our pears in the orchard are ripe, this will be one of the first things I make.
I’m sure you’ll enjoy it, Karen. We get two crops of pears here so I made these with winter pears.
This sounds fantastic. Pears, caramel, pastry! What could be better. I’ve seen this done as a savoury/sweet dish with beetroot too 🙂
Hi Lauren. I think I just saw the beetroot tatin recently, although I’ve never eaten one.
Wow, I love pears and baked up in a nice little crust sounds just about perfect.
Thanks, Ashlea. It was easier than I thought and I’ll be making it again.