Apple Tart

I had a virus a few weeks ago which resulted in me spending five days in bed.  In the good moments, I was able to catch up on some reading.  For years, my Dad has been encouraging me to read "Scoop" by Evelyn Waugh.  It is a satire, and revolves around the adventures of William Boot, a nature columnist, who is mistakenly sent to a fictional African state as a war correspondent in the 1930s.  It wasn't quite my cup of tea as some of the descriptions went on for ages, but there were some very funny passages, including a couple involving a goat, which I've copied below.  For context, the goat was tethered at Frau Dressler's pensione where Boot was staying. 

"The milch-goat was allowed a narrower radius; those who kept strictly to to the causeway were safe, but she never reconciled herself to this limitation and, day in, day out, essayed a series of meteoric onslaughts on the passers-by, ending, at the end of her rope, with a jerk which would have been death to an animal of any other species.  One day the rope would break; she knew it, and so did Frau Dressler's guests."

And then later...

"The milch-goat looked up from her supper of waste paper; her perennial optimism quickened within her, and swelled to a great and mature confidence; all day she had shared the exhilaration of the season, her pelt had glowed under the newborn sun; deep in her heart she too had made holiday, had cast off the doubts of winter and exulted among the crimson flowers; all day she had dreamed gloriously; now in the limpid evening she gathered her strength, stood for a moment rigid, quivering from horn to tail; then charged, splendidly, irresistibly, triumphantly, the rope snapped and the welter-weight champion of the Adventist University of Alabama sprawled on his face amid the kitchen garbage."

The reason why I found this so funny was not because of the cocktail of over the counter flu medication I had taken, but because it reminded me of an interaction I had with a goat in Ravensthorpe.  My Dad was working down there, and we had gone to spend some time with him during the school holidays.  After settling into the motel, I spied an untethered goat in a neighbouring field and immediately wanted to befriend it.  For some reason, my Mother had fortuitously packed a loaf of bread, and I skipped gleefully over to my soon to be new best friend with a few slices.  I got through the fence and held out the bread, and the goat knocked it out of my hand.  I bent over to pick it up and the goat head-butted me in the bottom.  We weren't friends after that.

Speaking of my childhood, here is another favourite from my Mother's repertoire - Tarte aux Pommes - from The Margaret Fulton Cookbook.  It was always a Saturday night post-roast winter staple. 

Apple Tart (adapted from The Margaret Fulton Cookbook)

For the pastry

250g plain flour
100g unsalted butter (softened)
100g icing sugar
pinch of salt
2 eggs

For the filling

7 medium Granny Smith apples
1 tbsp water
1/2 cup caster sugar
1/4 cup brandy
30g unsalted butter
1 tbsp lemon juice
1 tbsp raw caster sugar

For the glaze

2 tbsp apricot jam
1 tbsp water

Method

For the pastry, put the flour, icing sugar and salt into a food processor and pulse lightly until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs.  Add the eggs, and pulse until the mixture is just combined.  Do not overmix, otherwise the pastry will become leathery.  Turn out onto a floured surface.

Shape the pastry into a disc and refrigerate for 30 minutes.  When firm, roll out and line a 22cm tart tin.  As pastry shrinks, I always leave a little bit extra around the edges and the cut off any excess after it has come out of the oven. 

Put the tin in the freezer for 10 minutes to firm up.  Preheat the oven to 180 degrees celsius, and blind bake the pastry for 15 minutes. 

Remove the pastry weights and then bake for another 5 minutes until the pastry is a light golden colour. 

In the meantime, make the filling.  Peel and core five of the apples, and cut them into chunks.  Put the apples in a large saucepan with the brandy, water, 15g of the butter, and caster sugar.

Cover, and simmer on a gentle heat for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.  Remove from heat, and puree in a food processor.  Spread the puree into the tart shell. 

Peel and core the remaining two apples, and slice them thinly. Toss them with the raw caster sugar and lemon juice, and then lay them in a circular pattern over the puree. 

Melt the remaining butter and brush over the apple slices.  Bake the tart at 190 degrees celsius until the apples are golden brown (about 40 minutes).  I sometimes increase the heat to 200 degrees in the last 10 minutes to encourage caramelisation. 

To make the glaze, heat the jam and water in a saucepan and bring to a simmer.  When smooth and clear, spread over the warm tart.

This tart is a winner, although as a child it always used to give me a headache.  Mum said it was because of the brandy.  The alcohol cooks out, so it is just flavouring rather than a potential child protection issue.  Perhaps it was just too much for my sensitive goat-loving constitution.  It certainly doesn't give me a headache now.

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