What is a tart? No, not a saucy medieval lady with wicked wiles, though that term has been used in times past. The simplest description would be that it is a type of pie. If you really get down to it, there isn’t much distinction between a tart, a pie, a flan or a quiche when it comes to the dough end of the equation – or much of anything else for that matter.
Beautifully preparing the just ripened fruits of summer as a dessert is close to my heart. This is type of food is a sweet expression of your love and it honors the natural spirit of whatever freshly picked fruit you choose.
I know, empirically, that carrot cake doesn’t count as a serving of vegetables. Or that an incredibly huge slice doesn’t count as two servings of vegetables. I think we all do.
Yet I still have a vague sense that it’s somehow wholesome and good for me, even though my best recipe for carrot cake calls for a whole cup of mayonnaise. A wholesome, somehow good-for-me-excuse to eat frosting in front of company, because it seems bad manners to shovel it in my mouth with a spoon.
Allow me to confess right now that I, after a lengthy teenage rebellion and equally lengthy post adolescent period of disdain for conformity, am now settled in a lovely midwestern suburb. Seriously. Sometimes I coach youth soccer. I do PTA things. I do PTA Baking Committee things.
