How the Cookie Crumbles
Ways the kitchen teaches me to be flexible and resilient
With the weather warming up in California and late spring / early summer produce in full swing, I was feeling inspired this week to make a summery dessert. As I was grocery shopping, I had a That’s So Raven-esque vision of a beautiful tart crust baked in my new thrifted tart pan (a $5 find I was very excited about) filled with layers of vanilla pastry cream, jam and fresh, beautiful summer strawberries—maybe even some vanilla chantilly if I was feeling fancy. I got a little too wrapped up in my sugary daydream while standing in front of the berry section and was politely asked to move out of the way by a mom on a grocery shopping mission.
I was eager to make this vision come to life, even though it meant spending one of my rare days off doing yet more baking, so after getting home with my grocery haul I got to work in the kitchen. Being the Claire Saffitz devotee that I am, I settled on using her recipes for Pastry Cream and Sweet Tart Dough from Dessert Person (aka the Bible) to build the components of my dream tart.
Her recipe for pastry cream is flawless in my opinion. It always turns out so silky and gorgeous that every time I make it, I consider scrapping the rest of my dessert plans and just eating the custard with a spoon. I had some Nielsen Massey vanilla paste on hand, which made the pastry cream even more delicious and fragrant.
My sweet tart dough, however, was far from flawless. (Important to note: Claire never steers me wrong, as most of the internet would agree, so I know it was a user error issue and take full responsibility for the disastrous results.) The recipe directs you to make the dough in a food processor, which I was wary of, as I usually prefer to make my dough by hand if I can. Trusting in Claire as I always do, I placed the ingredients in the bowl of my food processor and tried my best to pulse the butter and flour together as directed. I think the food processor could smell my fear, because the dough came together much too quickly and soon turned into an oily, separated mess. I knew I had over-mixed it and warmed the butter up way too quickly, making the dough very sticky and hard to work with. I wrapped it in plastic, threw it in the fridge to rest and prayed to the pastry gods.
They did not answer.
After several hours of chilling, I attempted to press my sweet tart dough into my tart pan but it was still too sticky and lacking in structure, making it very difficult to achieve an even thickness. Nevertheless, I struggled through and got it in the oven, where blind baking the crust went even worse. The whole thing shrank and ripped away from the sides, leaving it a crumbly (but still delicious) mess.
It now being 6 pm (I started this journey at 11 am for reference), I was feeling deflated to say the least. My dreams of a gorgeous strawberry tart had been dashed by the Evil Food Processor and my own impatience. If you know me, you know I tend to be quite hard on myself (queue the resounding “You don’t say!!!” from my friends and family in the audience), so I was really bothered by my failure to execute the image I had in my head. And now I had two pounds of strawberries and a bowl of pastry cream in the fridge, mocking me.
Enter Stage Right my aforementioned plan to eat the custard with a spoon and the two beautiful Champagne coupes sitting on the shelf of my living room. Inspired by these glasses and the gorgeously forgiving concept of “deconstructed” desserts, a new idea bloomed in my head: Strawberry Tart Trifle-ish layered thingys where I could still enjoy the components I spent all day making, even if my tart crust was a pile of buttery rubble.
And so I crumbled up my tart crust in a bowl, grabbed the pastry cream, jam, and fresh strawberries and assembled Strawberry Tart Coupes—and had fun doing it. Even though I didn’t achieve the dessert I envisioned (I’m coming back for you Summer Strawberry Tart, make no mistake), I still ended up with something summery, light and delicious that I wouldn’t have considered making if I hadn’t pivoted when things didn’t go to plan.
Working in the kitchen, both professionally and at home, continually pushes me to problem solve and to look at things from all angles. It’s a practice that requires patience and the ability to persevere when something doesn’t work, both qualities being things I’m still working on every day. But it’s also a great reminder that there aren’t any rules! No one’s stopping you from laughing at your shitty tart crust and making something out of it anyway. Moments like these, though frustrating, remind me why I do what I do: because even when I’m angry or feeling defeated by a recipe, I’m so proud of myself when I’m able to work through the frustration to create something that I get to share with others.
So go bake something! If worse comes to worst, throw it in a bowl, slap the word deconstructed on it, and call it day.