Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!

An Opening Declaration:

In keeping with my original mandate for this blog, that being to write about my failures as well as my successes, I present below a recounting of the former. Not all is perfection and grace in my kitchen.

An Opening Declaration Ends.

I hate it when my oven picks a fight with me! Invariably it does so when I'm baking for company. I suppose I should have expected it; the danged thing had been behaving much too well for much too long. This time it happened at a gathering of friends who happen to be artists. Everyone talks about their projects, ideas, and connections. My contribution to the conversation tends to be my baking. "It is your art form," Michele likes to say. I'm not quite convinced but I do love feeding people good food.

This time around I thought I'd make two dishes – biscuits and a zwetschgendatchi – and since biscuits are best eaten warm, I waited until after folks had arrived to begin baking. I wanted the tart to be a little warm, too, so it would go in after were done. 

The biscuits went in. The biscuits came out. And I thought "Those don't seem to have risen like they should have." The tart went in and I finally had a chance to have one of the biscuits. When I split it to put butter and jam on it, it was very clear to me that they hadn't baked through and through. And when I took the tart out of the oven, after leaving it in longer than I ever have, it looked like this:

What a mess!

The pastry was crap. The plum juice hadn't gelled like it normally does. I was mortified...absolutely mortified. I take a lot of pride in what I do and even when things don't quite go to plan, I can put something delicious on the table. When I serve something that is basically inedible, I feel as though I've let down not just my guests but my baker's heart (if there is such a thing). I removed the busted biscuits and the terrible tart from the table.

Thank goodness I had two flavors of ice cream in the freezer to offer folks; that somewhat salvaged things. But this oven debacle wrecked me for the rest of the night, most of the next day, and into the next evening. I went to bed but my brain buzzed with all the different reasons for this problem and how to address it. I hope against hope that the answer wouldn't be "convince the management company to get us a new oven."

The next day, I couldn't wait to get home from work with a new oven thermometer to run some tests. (We used to have two of those at some point. Don't ask me what happened to them.) I used it to test the oven at three different temperatures and found that the preheat time had increased from about fifteen minutes to almost a half hour from when the electronic thermostat beeped readiness! Big, big change! The oven seemed to hold a temperature okay but I'd have to build in an extra twenty minutes or more into my prep time, to be on the safe side, to make sure it actually reached the target temperature before I put anything in it.

Armed with that knowledge, I bought more plums – the last of the season – and set out to redeem myself. Please to observe:

Full Size.

Minis!

They were perfect. Crust, filling, taste...all were as I wanted them to be! Tart Redemption Achievement Unlocked! *phew* 

Time put this particular fight behind me and move on to other things.

Currently listening to: The Dramatics - Whatcha See Is Whatcha Get

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A Brief Morning Encounter

I got off the subway this morning and instead of going straight to the office, I veered down the sidewalk, skimming the edges of the Thursday Farmers Market to get to my favorite orchard stand. The object of my search? Italian Prune Plums for another zwetschgendatschi. I sent one with Michele to work last week and it got rave reviews. 

Said Rave Reviews:

"Very Good!" "Amazing!" "Thrilled!" All kinds of thumbs up and an offer to support my "art form" whenever the need arises. And one broken gluten-free fast.

Said Rave Reviews End

Said plum tart:

Spell it with me: "zwetschgendatschi"!

Obviously, I never got to taste this one, so I was hoping to nab one more batch to bake another for myself, now that I'm getting the hang of making this so that it tastes much more like what I had in Munich thirty-one years ago. I was in luck! There was one bin of plums (down from two last week, so we're definitely at the end of the season) and they were mostly squishy firm, as opposed to rock-hard firm. 

That's a good thing because I've determined that the secret to my success with this tart is to ripen the plums within an inch of their lives. That seem to release the best taste when they bake. Also, I now prefer to bake it in my square tart pan, since I don't remember ever getting a slice of this in Munich that was wedge-shaped. Oh, and use about half as many plums as the recipe calls for, and twice the raw sugar for topping.  

I was in the process of snagging a bagful when a woman with lovely gray hair and a sweet smile, got my attention. I had to unplug myself from my shopping play list, though. Don't laugh. My whole life has soundtracks. I'm still cognizant of my surroundings, which is why I knew she was talking to me, instead of thin air.

At any rate, she said I seemed to be a fan of the plums (I was rather focused and engaged in choosing good ones) and asked if they were good, even though they aren't usually very sweet. I told her about making the zwetschgendatschi instead of just eating them. She was intrigued and said I was inspiring with the idea of baking with them. I don't know so much about inspiring; I was just talking about making my favorite tart of all time. 

After I showed her a picture on my phone, and failed miserably at helping her spell and pronounce it (one more time: zwetschgendatschi - ts-vetch-kin-dah-chee), we talked about the crust and how what I used to top the tart. I gave her my card and that I've written about this, and posted a link to the recipe.

When she asked if I sold what I baked, and if the blog was about that, I had to shake my head, and tell her it's more about my process of becoming a better baker than it is about recipes. And I don't sell my baking. This brought another smile to her face and she thanked me for sharing the idea of the tart with her. And I have to thank her for giving me an amazing morning!

Currently listening to:  Venemy - New Life (Part 2) (Feat. Notelle)

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Zwetschgendatschi, ein Mal noch ("Long German word for 'plum tart', one more time")

With what I'm sure will be the last of the plums for the summer, I attempted my third zwetschgendatschi, the German plum tart I fell in love with when I was in München in1984. My first two attempts really didn't meet with my personal approval, although other folks enjoyed them. There was something off about the crust, as well as the taste and consistency of the plums for me: too gummy, not tart enough, and too runny, in that order. I really wanted to get this one right, as per my memory, since one of the reasons I bake is to recreate my pastry past. Having some folks over for a little afternoon chin wag and nosh, gave me the perfect opportunity to give this a go.

Once again, I referred to the recipe I found on NPR, trying to pay attention to subtleties I might have missed before. The plums, this time, came from my favorite farmers market apple vendor. None of them were firm, which told me I was right on the edge of not being able to make this attempt. I didn't buy the amount required by the recipe because if these weren't going to be any good, I didn't want to waste so much money if I was forced to 86 the dessert.

A Word For Those Not In The Know:

The term, "86" is something I learned when I was a room service waiter at a Marriott hotel the summer between my sophomore and junior years of college. When something is "86" that means the kitchen is out of it and some customer is going to be sorely disappointed to have to change his or her order. It works both ways, too. For example, I will order a burger but tell the waitperson to "86 the onions". More times than not, they know exactly what I mean.

A Word For Those Not In The Know Ends.

Another decision I made on the fly was to use my square tart pan instead of my round one. I remembered that I never got a slice of this dessert that was wedge-shaped when I was in Germany. (Not that I thought that had anything to do with the taste, mind you, but it sure couldn't hurt.) Besides, I just like using that pan; I've had it for about twenty-five years.

I made the crust by the numbers, as I did the last time, but I looked at the process with two years additional years of experience with crusts, plus a more recent experience of making my own pasta, to back me up. The dough felt better as intuition I didn't even know I'd cultivated helped it come together. 

My intuition about the amount of plums turned out to be spot-on, too. I picked just enough to cover the crust in the size and shape of pan I was using. The plums were a little watery but I figured that wouldn't be a problem because of my plan for baking time.

The recipe called for forty-five minutes at 350º and my experience with my oven told me that it would probably have to go longer. I actually ended up baking this for about fifty-five minutes, using not only my eyes but also my nose as guides to when it was done. I'm finally beginning to trust my sense of smell when it comes to telling when baking fruit has reached its peak in the oven. 

Quite a sight!

It looked right and smelled right. And the slice?

Rectangle slice, not wedge.

Yep. A nice rectangle that was easily cut. 

The first bite told me that my patience had been rewarded. The plums were tart but with an underlying, offsetting sweetness. The crust wasn't gummy and had the right mouth feel. Memories of late summer afternoons in München came flooding back with that bite. And all the bites that followed. 

I don't think I'll have time to make another before decent plums totally disappear from the farmers market. I'll be headed to San Diego this week to visit with my brother and his family, so I won't get to do any tart baking until the following week. We'll see what the future holds. For now? I'm going make myself a nice cuppa and enjoy my zwetschgendatschi to my heart's content. After all, I've only been waiting thirty-one years for this.

Currently listening to: Juventa - Superhuman (Feat. Kelly Sweet) (Culture Code Remix)

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