Apricot lavender tart

The first time I ate an apricot was magic, the way the fruit opened so willingly along its cleft in my hand, the seed falling easily away. It wasn’t messy or overly liquid, but it didn’t feel dry in the mouth. The taste was like peaches, maybe, which I’d had many times before, but different somehow. More ephemeral or delicate or some such thing or other. Apricot may well be derived from both the Latin word and idea for precocious—‘early ripe,’ my dictionary says—but I was 20 when I first ate an apricot, with a birthday card that said ‘Lolita’ stuck to my refrigerator door. But that’s another story, and this one is more like the 40 year old virgin’s anyway.

They’ve rarely been as good as that first time, the apricots, and I think it is the food enthusiast’s curse that this will ever be the case. So you search out new methods and new tinctures. Another kitchen tool, another odd spice, an ‘original’ combination. Something, anything to recreate that moment of blind adoration for a very humble thing indeed, costing maybe fifty cents but worth – oh, you decide.

Or maybe it’s just me.

But apricots remain difficult to procure in that aforementioned excellent state. Like peaches, they are fragile, so going home with bruised specimens is far too easy. But peaches may be bought unripe, and will come to nicely on your counter, whereas apricots only wind up mealy, unconvincing. This happens in their shipping boxes too, so unless your apricots were grown very nearby, chances are good that you will get a yucky one in addition to a bruised one, its insides somewhat grey.

For those of you interested in this eater’s personal life, Lolita was the florist’s name, and I had apricots like when I was 20 again last week, standing at my kitchen counter and alone. But some of them I’ve shared. The following recipe is indeed the gilding of a lily. Apricots are wonderful just as they are, but apricots and lavender go wonderfully together, too. As for the tart bit, a little butter and sugar never hurt anything, though it must also be said that this gilding is imperfect. Tarts in which the fruit is baked directly tend to get a little soggy on the bottom, and I remain uncertain that this can be successfully avoided or, for that matter, that it is even thoroughly desirable. Please chime in if I am wrong, but in the meantime, be sure to cool the tart entirely before serving, and then eat it quickly. It might not be quite like that very first time, but it should still be good.

Apricot lavender tart

The recipe for this tart crust comes from David Lebovitz, which in turn is adapted from Paule Caillat. I *love* this recipe and will never use another. For the filling, I’ve found that the lavender sugar seems to benefit by having at least a day or two to sit. I’m not sure there’s any science or logic behind this, but as there’s nothing perishable about dried lavender and sugar, you can make this however far in advance you like.

Make the lavender sugar: Grind the lavender in a mortar + pestle or chop finely. If using the former, add some sugar so you’ve got enough to smash around. Then mix with the rest of the sugar and store in a jar until needed.

Make the crust: Heat the oven to 410 F (210 C). Place butter, oil, water, sugar + salt in an ovenproof bowl and put that in the oven. After 15 minutes, take it out, dump in the flour, and stir until the mixture forms a ball. This will take all of 30 seconds. Transfer the dough to a 9 in (23 cm) tart mold, smoosh it out a bit with your spoon, and then do something else until it is cool enough to handle, about 15 more minutes.

Press the dough into and up the sides of the mold with your hands, reserving a small piece to patch holes. Prick the dough many times with a fork. Place the mold on a baking sheet, and bake for 15 minutes. Let the shell cool entirely before filling. If there are any sizable cracks, use the bit of reserved dough to patch them. If there are not, eat the bit of reserved dough. (Yum!)

Prepare the filling and assemble the tart: Turn the oven to 375 F (190 C). Peel the apricots and slice them. They may be dipped first in boiling water to help slip off their skins. Sprinkle several spoonfuls of the lavender sugar in the base of the tart crust. Layer the apricot slices around the tart in a way that is pleasing to you. Sprinkle with the rest of the sugar, a pinch of salt, and dot with the butter. Bake (still on the baking sheet) for 30 minutes, until the fruit seems soft and the sugar has become syrupy.

To glaze the tart: Place your big spoonful of apricot preserves with the sugar in a very small pot. Shove through a strainer first if you like. Bring to a simmer, and let bubble for about 2 minutes, until a smaller spoonful of the preserves drips quickly back into the pot, with the last few drops seeming kind of sticky. Then use a pastry brush to paint on the apricots.

To serve:  Let the tart cool completely before serving, and garnish with a bit of sweetened crème fraîche.