thehousekitchen has returned from its hiatus in Mexico and is safely back in Hyde Park. Yesterday, my first day back, I was set on making a Tarte Tartin that’s in a cookbook I bought in Mexico City. I’ll be honest. The photos in the cookbook made me weep from beauty. This tarte looked like it was made for Zeus. Or like Poseidon. I decided that I must have it, so I set out to the store to by the ingredients. Gala apples, puff pastry, sugar, and butter are all you need to make a tarte that I assume was originally baked on Mt. Olympus. You gotta cook the apples in the sugar and butter in a cast iron skillet for about 20 minutes on the stove and 20 minutes in a 425 degree oven. The smell those apples emitted was probably used as Aphrodite’s perfume because I started falling in love with my oven for smelling so good. When I put the puff pastry on top of the apples while they’re in the oven, I was elated for the Tarte of the Gods to come out of the oven. 20 minutes later I took it out and It looked good. Like maybe not Miss USA good, but it would have definitely won Miss Congeniality. I let it cool for a bit and then attempted to flip it as is customary for the Tarte Tartin de Zeus. The flip was going well until I lifted the pan and oh the horror. The syrup had cooked for a little too long and some apples were stuck to the pan. DAMN. It was like watching your comrades fall in battle. I looked down at apples that had survived, but they were looking beat up. I scraped the stuck apples off the pan and looked at by flimsy, weak looking tarte. This was no tarte for Zeus. Hell, Dionysus wouldn’t even eat it. I put her in the fridge, hoping it would be transformed into not-an-abomination. Later, Ellen and I tried it and actually tasted fantastic. So while not a complete success, I’m well on my way to making a tarte that Zeus himself would enjoy, sitting atop Mt. Olypmpus. Then, and only then, will I be the champion.
peace ‘n luv