My brother isn’t afraid to ask for more time. He’ll take an extra five minutes to get his shoes on for a dog walk, will leave you nursing a drink at the restaurant as you await his arrival, and if you go to pick him up, you can bet you’ll have time to answer a couple quick emails.
In university, he was notorious for asking his professors for an extension. I, on the other hand, could NEVER!! I would push and rush and force words onto the page as if UVic’s Dean had a gun to my head. But Jack approached it differently. He would take the time he needed to produce his best work–undoubtedly better work than mine. It didn’t bother his professors, either. I actually think his asks, for valid reasons or not*, established rapport, and though he’d be docked marks for late submissions, his grades were always impressive.
* I’ll never forget the time we happened to be seated directly in front of our History of the Modern Middle East professor (what’s up Martin!!) at an Emmylou Harris show, mere hours after Jack had asked for more time to finish a midterm paper.
Busted.
If all this is reading like a sibling rant, honest to God, it isn’t. I wasn’t always as patient, but I really don’t mind when Jack is late. I’ll sip that beer or write that email and know he’ll get there when he gets there. I have (finally) learned from my charming big brother that sometimes we just need more time to get it right.
Last week, I needed an extension. Last week, I just needed more time to get it right. Last week, a bay leaf custard tart ruined took over my life.
I could have pushed and rushed and forced a recipe together, but it wouldn’t have been my best work, and you wouldn’t have gotten the best tart. Yes, a newsletter would have gone out “on time”, but really? It would have been a waste of time.
Yes, my “newsletter every Tuesday” deadline is self-imposed, but it matters to me! You guys matter to me!
In my first attempt, I underbaked the custard and couldn’t get it out of the tart shell. Disaster. The second attempt was better but came out with horrible big bubbles, so I went and bought a kitchen torch and borrowed Butane from Shaun’s restaurant. Round three was looking real nice, until part of it sunk into a pathetic crater. I made these mistakes so you wouldn’t have to. It took me two dozen eggs and two litres of cream and milk, but finally, I got it right.
I hope you make this tart and it comes out perfectly on the first try <3
thanks for being here :)
bay leaf custard tart!!
First, a word about the Bay Leaf.
People love to hate on bay leaves—I was once one of them. Does it seem silly to toss a couple dried-up-once-green twiggy things into a big pot of sauce? Yes. Do they impart flavour and aroma? Yes. This became abundantly clear to me when I tried lightly roasting them–within ten minutes, the whole apartment smelled like tea. It was wild.Justice for Bay Leaves.
ok, the recipe!!
Tart Dough
Make a day or two ahead.
300g butter, at room temperature
150g granulated sugar
2 egg yolks
½ tsp vanilla
450g ap or pastry flour
Using a wooden spoon, cream together the butter and sugar. Add the egg yolks and vanilla and combine. Add the flour, and mix as well as you can with your wooden spoon before getting in there with your hands. Knead gently just until you have a cohesive dough.
Separate the dough into three 310g discs. Wrap and chill overnight.
The next morning, pull a disc of tart dough from the fridge and let it temper for 1-2 hours. Roll the disc into a large circle, roughly 3mm thick, and line a greased and floured 9 or 10 inch fluted tart shell with a removable bottom. Dock thoroughly. Freeze for 20-30 minutes while you preheat your oven to 350F.
Bake the tart shell for 15 minutes or until golden brown. Lightly brush the docked bottom with egg white and return it to the oven to set, roughly one minute. Set aside to cool.
Bay Leaf Custard
310ml whole milk
375ml heavy cream
10ish fresh or dried bay leaves
9 egg yolks
125g granulated sugar
First, infuse your milk and cream: Combine the milk, cream and bay leaves in a medium pot and heat gently until steaming, a light simmer. Remove from the heat, cover and let it infuse for an hour.
Preheat the oven to 300F.
Finish the custard: Whisk the egg yolks and sugar together until combined. Strain the bay leaves from the cream and then return the cream to the pot. Gently bring to a simmer, almost boil.
Pour the hot cream into the egg and sugar mixture, whisking to combine, then pass the custard through a fine sieve to catch any cooked eggy lumps. Transfer the custard into something you can easily pour from (a large liquid measure or pitcher, or 1L deli tub work!). Skim off any foam and leave the custard to settle for 10-20 minutes.
Place the tart shell on a baking sheet and into the oven. Pour the custard into the shell, and quickly and lightly torch away any bubbles.
Bake for 30–40 minutes until just set. It will still be quite wobbly in the centre. Turn off the oven and prop the door open, leaving the custard tart to cool slowly for 5 minutes before removing it from the oven to cool completely. Chill in the fridge. Serve chilled or at room temperature!
*If the tart isn’t as cute as you’d like, top it with a dust of icing sugar or grated nutmeg!
enjoy! :)