{"id":151583,"date":"2014-09-27T00:00:00","date_gmt":"2014-09-27T00:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/gracious-khorana.45-76-20-142.plesk.page\/localmex12014x109x1pear-frangipane-caramel-tart-from-top-with-cinnamon-htmlx1\/"},"modified":"2023-06-26T17:11:45","modified_gmt":"2023-06-26T17:11:45","slug":"pear-frangipane-caramel-tart-from-top-with-cinnamon","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/localmilkblog.com\/2014\/09\/pear-frangipane-caramel-tart-from-top-with-cinnamon.html","title":{"rendered":"Pear, Frangipane & Caramel Tart from \u201cTop with Cinnamon\u201d"},"content":{"rendered":"
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\"pear,<\/a><\/p>\n

\"pear,<\/a><\/p>\n

\"pear,<\/a><\/p>\n

I have my mother\u2019s hands, pronounced veins & tapered fingers. My hands are tools. They scratch and pry, knead and rub. They make. I too often use them as oven mitts. They\u2019re devil\u2019s hands & dirty. They like to touch and be touched, and I like to think my fingers would have been very good at piano. I, however, can\u2019t play any instrument at all. In a different life, I\u2019d be a pianist that spoke five languages. But I also can\u2019t speak a foreign language. So. They aren\u2019t pianist hands. They aren\u2019t polyglot hands. They\u2019re just kitchen hands. Kitchen hands that want to touch everything.\u00a0The flesh of fruit and sandy almond meal. The smooth shells of pistachios, pried open for the meat. Eat one, toss one in the bowl. Cream the frangipane. Run a\u00a0finger along the edge of the wooden spoon. And lick it off.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

To touch & taste are the world to me.\u00a0I\u2019m hungry, deeply and always. It drives me forward without always knowing where I\u2019m going, that hunger. I need to be forever creating and consuming, as if the mad accordion that is the stars all at once (because what is time) fleeing from and collapsing into the heart of black hole is at work inside me. It\u2019s probably at work in us all.\u00a0Maybe there\u2019s a sorrow behind the hunger though lately I see nothing but light.\u00a0There are fantastic orbs, bundles of scattering light, just pinging around inside me.\u00a0I\u2019m so very happy these days.<\/p>\n

\"pear,<\/a><\/p>\n

\"pear,<\/a><\/p>\n

\"pear,<\/a><\/p>\n

\"pear,<\/a><\/p>\n

\"pear,<\/a><\/p>\n

And yet there\u2019s a\u00a0darkness always present in my work. Someone said recently that a photo of mine was full of sorrow. At first I laughed. How could a lamb chop be full of sorrow? And yet, there it was. Undeniably, over and over again. My work is tinged with some foreign sorrow. A sorrow that, these days, feels alien. It\u2019s the\u00a0shadow. Last night I awoke three times sobbing in my sleep. It was bizarre, and I do not know what haunts me. I wake up\u00a0and see nothing but\u00a0light. I cannot know myself. Most days, I don\u2019t care to try. I\u2019d rather be. In the waking world my\u00a0feet are in the dirt, and my skin feels like it\u2019s rippling electric. My heart and mind are consumed by work &, jangling elation.<\/p>\n

But it would seem at night I float, from time to time, into dark, deep water. All\u00a0I know is that no waves can wash me out to sea when I\u2019m cooking, writing, shooting. Not when I\u2019m working, \u00a0not as long as I don\u2019t stop moving. That\u2019s what I tell myself, and it seems to work. And that is why I love my hands. That is why I love to touch. More dimpled pears, more papery pistachio. More skin. More here, more now. More happiness. The darkness is such an intrinsic part of me it infuses my work even when all I can see is brilliance & joy. But for now, I will leave it for my sleep and while I wake, I\u2019ll enjoy a cup of coffee, so juicy, and fall pears with warm almond frangipane in the only pastry crust I ever make.<\/p>\n

\"pear,<\/a><\/p>\n

\"pear,<\/a><\/p>\n

\"pear,<\/a><\/p>\n

\"pear,<\/a><\/p>\n

\"pear,<\/a><\/p>\n

This recipe is adapted from Izy Hossack\u2019s<\/a> new cookbook Top With Cinnamon<\/a> and it\u2019s just so brilliantly simple. Once it was there, irrevocably sitting on my counter next to the chemex & my favorite cups, I felt so\u00a0civilized<\/em>. Izy\u00a0makes them in little tartlets on rounds of wholemeal pastry crust. I opted for one biggie with my oh-so-southern all purpose flour & butter crust. Mostly because I wanted to use my favorite Art et Manufacture<\/a> tart dish from Provisions.<\/a> Funnily, I\u2019d never made frangipane. My assistant\u00a0Amanda<\/a>\u00a0(who also took the shots with my hands in them for me)\u00a0had to google it for me so I could figure out some alternative to calling it \u201cfrangi-panty\u201d. So, that was a sophisticated moment. I\u2019m obsessed now. Frangipane everything from hence forth. Especially for the fruits of fall. Don\u2019t miss Izy\u2019s book.\u00a0<\/p>\n

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