After eating a few of the gala apples and d'anjou pears in my latest grocery shipment, I decided that these crunchy but somewhat blander varieties of fruit might make better for baking than eating. I much prefer eating fuji apples and bosc pears, particularly when the pears get a touch overripe.
I've made plenty of pies in my life, but never a blend of fruits, and I figured this was a good chance to test this out. I also have never made a pie to look like a traditional French tart, with thin slices of fruit standing up throughout the baking dish.
I put all these concepts together, with a few twists, to make a rustic looking apple and pear tart. What you'll need:
flour
shortening
cold water
two gala apples
two d'anjou pears
sugar
cinnamon
nutmeg
butter
Preheat your oven to 425 degrees. I had an 8-inch pie tin, which I sprayed with canola oil and lightly coated in flour.
Peel both apples and pears and cut the fruit away from the core. Discard the peels and cores, and then cut both the apples and pears into long, thin slices. Place these slices in a bowl and add about 3 tablespoons of flour, 1/2 cup of sugar, 1/4 teaspoon of cinnamon and 1/4 teaspoon of nutmeg.
It is important you do this step before making the dough, because the longer a dough sits, the more dried out it gets, and the more difficult it will be to work with.
Now for the dough: Typically, tarts are made with puff pastry, but I figured an old-fashioned, U.S.-style pie crust would do the trick. I used my mother's (and her mother's, and likely her mother's) recipe.
Mix 1 cup of flour with 1/3 cup of shortening. I like to blend the two with a fork. Small crumbles of dough should begin to form when they're fully incorporated. Then slowly add cold water, typically about 2-3 tablespoons, until a dough begins to form. Now, a lot of things can factor into how much water you need, like humidity, so if you think you need more, you probably do, and vice versa. The goal is to make one cohesive mound of dough, not a flaky bowl of flour. I add about a tablespoon at a time until I'm satisfied.
Generously flour your tabletop. There is practically no such thing as too much flour in this situation. If your tabletop looks like the final scene in "Scarface," only then have you gone too far. Also coat your rolling pin.
Take the dough out of the mixing bowl and place on your floured surface. With your hands coated in flour (and rings removed), press this dough gently into a mound. Then, I like to perform a move that looks a little like I'm giving my dough CPR. Place your palms one on top of the other, much like CPR, and press different parts of this mound of dough out into a circular shape. This is a little trick I do to ensure that when I roll out the dough, it forms into a circle.
Take the rolling pin and evenly roll out this dough in all directions. If you're not sure how big to make the circle or if parts aren't stretched out enough, simply turn your pie tin upside down over the layer to get a good idea.
Now the fun part: Picking up the dough, and putting it into the pie tin.
This is my mother's trick: Pick up one edge of the dough and roll it onto the rolling pin. Now continue to roll the pin, picking up dough as you go. Once you can lift the entire dough this way, unroll it into the pie tin. It's a scary thing the first time you do it, but you'll get the hang of it. We're making this dish look rustic, so if it breaks, just pick it up and press it back together in the tin, no apologies! Never scrap your dough and try to start over. This overworks the dough, and you will never get it back to its original elasticity. Make a few fork impressions in the bottom of the dough.
Fill the crust with the pear and apple filling, stacking the fruits so they stand upright in the tin.
Dot the top of the filled crust with butter. Why? Because it's delicious — that's why.
I wanted this to look a little rough around the edges, so I did exactly that. I took the overlapping pie crust and just folded it back toward the center, leaving about a 4-inch-diameter hole in the center of the pie. Feel free to cut the excess crust and use a fork or your fingers to make a fancier looking edge. Make sure if you opt to cover the entire top with crust to leave holes so the pie doesn't puff up much taller than the filling.
Fun fact: Apparently the only real difference between a pie and a tart is if there is only a bottom crust. This one has a big overarching bottom crust, so perhaps this is somewhere in between technically.
I baked this in the oven at 425 for 50 minutes. I kept an eye on it, and about 35 minutes in, I covered the center with aluminum foil, because it was starting to get too brown. Do the same to any part of your pie you feel is in danger of burning.
It turned out great. The slices of apple feel very familiar, but then a slice of pear will come out of nowhere and wake up your tongue. One of my pears was particularly juicy, and slices of it make the whole pie come alive. Another dessert success for this blog!
I've made plenty of pies in my life, but never a blend of fruits, and I figured this was a good chance to test this out. I also have never made a pie to look like a traditional French tart, with thin slices of fruit standing up throughout the baking dish.
I put all these concepts together, with a few twists, to make a rustic looking apple and pear tart. What you'll need:
flour
shortening
cold water
two gala apples
two d'anjou pears
sugar
cinnamon
nutmeg
butter
Preheat your oven to 425 degrees. I had an 8-inch pie tin, which I sprayed with canola oil and lightly coated in flour.
Peel both apples and pears and cut the fruit away from the core. Discard the peels and cores, and then cut both the apples and pears into long, thin slices. Place these slices in a bowl and add about 3 tablespoons of flour, 1/2 cup of sugar, 1/4 teaspoon of cinnamon and 1/4 teaspoon of nutmeg.
It is important you do this step before making the dough, because the longer a dough sits, the more dried out it gets, and the more difficult it will be to work with.
Now for the dough: Typically, tarts are made with puff pastry, but I figured an old-fashioned, U.S.-style pie crust would do the trick. I used my mother's (and her mother's, and likely her mother's) recipe.
Mix 1 cup of flour with 1/3 cup of shortening. I like to blend the two with a fork. Small crumbles of dough should begin to form when they're fully incorporated. Then slowly add cold water, typically about 2-3 tablespoons, until a dough begins to form. Now, a lot of things can factor into how much water you need, like humidity, so if you think you need more, you probably do, and vice versa. The goal is to make one cohesive mound of dough, not a flaky bowl of flour. I add about a tablespoon at a time until I'm satisfied.
Generously flour your tabletop. There is practically no such thing as too much flour in this situation. If your tabletop looks like the final scene in "Scarface," only then have you gone too far. Also coat your rolling pin.
Take the dough out of the mixing bowl and place on your floured surface. With your hands coated in flour (and rings removed), press this dough gently into a mound. Then, I like to perform a move that looks a little like I'm giving my dough CPR. Place your palms one on top of the other, much like CPR, and press different parts of this mound of dough out into a circular shape. This is a little trick I do to ensure that when I roll out the dough, it forms into a circle.
Take the rolling pin and evenly roll out this dough in all directions. If you're not sure how big to make the circle or if parts aren't stretched out enough, simply turn your pie tin upside down over the layer to get a good idea.
Now the fun part: Picking up the dough, and putting it into the pie tin.
This is my mother's trick: Pick up one edge of the dough and roll it onto the rolling pin. Now continue to roll the pin, picking up dough as you go. Once you can lift the entire dough this way, unroll it into the pie tin. It's a scary thing the first time you do it, but you'll get the hang of it. We're making this dish look rustic, so if it breaks, just pick it up and press it back together in the tin, no apologies! Never scrap your dough and try to start over. This overworks the dough, and you will never get it back to its original elasticity. Make a few fork impressions in the bottom of the dough.
Fill the crust with the pear and apple filling, stacking the fruits so they stand upright in the tin.
Dot the top of the filled crust with butter. Why? Because it's delicious — that's why.
I wanted this to look a little rough around the edges, so I did exactly that. I took the overlapping pie crust and just folded it back toward the center, leaving about a 4-inch-diameter hole in the center of the pie. Feel free to cut the excess crust and use a fork or your fingers to make a fancier looking edge. Make sure if you opt to cover the entire top with crust to leave holes so the pie doesn't puff up much taller than the filling.
Fun fact: Apparently the only real difference between a pie and a tart is if there is only a bottom crust. This one has a big overarching bottom crust, so perhaps this is somewhere in between technically.
I baked this in the oven at 425 for 50 minutes. I kept an eye on it, and about 35 minutes in, I covered the center with aluminum foil, because it was starting to get too brown. Do the same to any part of your pie you feel is in danger of burning.
It turned out great. The slices of apple feel very familiar, but then a slice of pear will come out of nowhere and wake up your tongue. One of my pears was particularly juicy, and slices of it make the whole pie come alive. Another dessert success for this blog!
Yummy :D
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