Maple Syrup Tarts
Oops, how did three days go by? In that time I met with Pierre over an exciting new project we’re working on, the boys and I had a tour of MacKay’s ice cream factory in Cochrane and a preview of the mini donut ice cream they’re going to have at Weadickville this year (!), we tore out half our back yard, Lou spent a night in the doggie detention centre, having been picked up a few doors down the street and deposited at said location a few minutes before closing time (hearing horror stories overnight no doubt from other bad-ass dogs about the Big Sleep) and we had the best Canada Day ever. I couldn’t wait to tell you about it, except that when we got home from the party we spent almost 7 hours at, after far too much sun and a few icy Damn-You-Dorises (I’ll explain later) and I managed to crawl into bed with my laptop, I discovered that my camera was in fact back at the party, most likely still on the hot tub cover where I put it so I’d remember it. And then I think I fell asleep.
I tried to zero in on something specific we ate on Canada Day to share with you – maple syrup tarts – but can I tell you about the day first? We had planned to finally FINALLY put in the garden yesterday, and my sister and I went the night before to spend hundreds of dollars on dirt, rocks and poo. Which kind of makes you feel a little bit like you’ve been had, don’t you think? Walking through the garden centre comparing bags of soil – Black Gold! Super Soil! NuMix! Ultra Potting Soil! Topsoil! Peat! Also: cow manure! Sheep manure! Mushroom manure! (I didn’t realize they had that particular function?) My sister somehow knew exactly what ratio of this to that would make for optimal growing conditions, and we loaded the old Subaru Outback so full that the back bumper was about an inch off the asphalt the whole way home.
Yesterday morning we collectively tore out the back fence and reclaimed some space behind the garage, trimmed trees, built raised beds and dug out weeds and rocks and built a poopad for Lou. Here’s a lovely trashy before photo. Next time I’ll get Mike to capture me sitting in a lawn chair in the swimming pool with a beer.
We mixed and filled the planter boxes with a ridiculous amount of dirt and planted blueberries and raspberries, strawberries, carrots, beets, radishes, chard, peas (did you know if you soak them for a day before planting them it shaves off a few days’ germination time?), tomatoes, spinach and lettuces.
I missed the next work-in-progress picture because around mid-afternoon, as we all started getting tired and achy from bending and shoveling, we threw on (mostly) clean clothes and headed up the hill to the house of friends who have a Canada Day party every year. Every year Mike brings his stand-up snare drum and acts as accompanist to the lowering of the previous year’s flag and the raising, to a rousing group rendition of Oh Canada!, of the new.
It’s a potluck, a total free-for-all – there is no “you bring a side dish, and you bring dessert” – and yet the table is never overrun by potato salad. And even if it was, who cares? We’re at a party with dozens of happy people, and would have happily eaten platefuls of potato salads. This year the tables were loaded with slow-cooker curries, crispy-fried pickerel from Manitoba, corn and black bean salad, seven-layer dip, chips, mussels, and Nik brought Turkish cotton candy and pickled plums.
And this year, there was a Margaritaville bevy blender, into which I suggested Doris, known in some circles as the McGyver of the bar, whiz up a Strongbow. She added her own kind of love and wound up with rounds of icy drinks I dubbed Damn You Doris, applicable at the time because she wouldn’t share the formula, and potentially later on or the next morning, when one could mumble under ones’ breath “damn you Doris!” (Later, she shared her recipe, although I don’t have the quantities straight: Strongbow, vodka and peach schnapps – just a bit – and ice. Damn.)
There was a soccer game across the street, at which Emily, who I may not have yet proudly mentioned is a soccer superstar, kicked some serious ass and impressed even the ex soccer player dads.
There were hundreds of water balloons and a trampoline, and twin brunette girls with bobs in red and white striped Parisienne shirts and flouncy skirts who huffed off, annoyed by Ben and W, dressed in Spiderman and Superman costumes respectively, trying to wow them with their superhero moves.
Leon wore a Montreal Canadiens PJ top. The boys hid out in between rounds of soccer and water balloon wars in the old school basement rec room to cool off and play air hockey and Operation. I inhaled a bug – up my nose, so I didn’t even get the advantage of added protein – about ten seconds before meeting someone I’ve been meaning to meet in person for ages. She fashionably dressed, manicured and clean – me still in my gardening clothes from the waist down, soaked from the hose from the waist up, and trying to play it cool, lest she notice I have some sort of flying creature wedged in my sinus.
My contribution to the potluck was determined by what was in the kitchen (yes, I’m still on that mission), which included pastry made with homemade lard in the freezer and maple syrup in the fridge. We also brought pretzels and experimental watermelon cupcakes, which began as beautiful pale pink batter and wound up as weird neon orange baked cakes – nothing a smear of icing and shower of sprinkles couldn’t disguise (and simultaneously ensure only the younger set would go for them).
Maple Syrup Tarts
pastry for a double crust pie
Filling:
2 large eggs
1/2 cup packed golden brown sugar
1 cup pure maple syrup
2 Tbsp. butter, softened or melted
pinch salt
1 cup coarsely chopped pecans (optional)Preheat oven to 400°F. On a lightly floured surface, roll the pastry out 1/4? thick. Cut out circles using a 4? cookie cutter or empty can, and press into ungreased muffin cups. (Or cut them smaller and line mini muffin cups.)
Whisk together all the filling ingredients and fill the tart shells about 2/3 full; bake for 20 minutes, until bubbly and golden. Take them out of the pan using a thin knife to run around the edges and coax them out while they are still warm, otherwise any goo that has bubbled over will stick to the pan as it cools. If it does, pop them back in the oven for a minute to soften it again. Cool on a wire rack. Makes about 2 dozen tarts.
July 02 2010 | dessert | 16 Comments »
