Depth (Molasses caramel pear tart)
The color didn’t change as the molasses and sugar turned to caramel, already saturated dark brown.
The scent, though, shifted perceptibly around the 8-minute mark, a deeper note. Sugars cloaked in nighttime. I removed the saucepan from the heat, added butter and apple cider vinegar, stirred it as it thickened and then poured it into an ungreased cake pan.
Now the pears, sliced with skins on, spiraling around the caramel like Busby Berkeley swimmers.
I gently tucked the rye-cocoa pie crust around the pears. The locally grown and milled rye flour in the dough was the opposite of pastry flour, high in protein and prone to tearing, which it did. This was the second version of the tart I had made. The first version, for tea with Emily, used puff pastry, its flaky layers perfect for absorbing the caramel. This one was for lunch with Monique, and I had warned her that dessert would be experimental.
I didn’t know either woman well. Emily and I had met at our local coffee shop and a dozen other places around town. Monique I had interviewed and hired for my team before leaving my job, but we never worked together. For a long time, I didn’t actually want to make new friends, feeling like my life and work were over-full. I barely had time for the friends I had. But now, my own cup full, I’ve invited new relationships into my life.
It takes presence, and showing up. Going to events around town – a swing dance, a library presentation, a fundraiser for abortion support in New York. Taking the train, the Metro North and then the 7 line to Queens, to meet Monique for lunch (and now she made her own voyage north to Hastings for lunch with me). It takes listening. Who are you? What storms have you traveled through? Where are you now? It takes doing something together, not just talking. Making something, cleaning something, exchanging something, walking somewhere, working a garden, watching a sunset screening of Mary Poppins in another friend’s yard.
Getting beyond the surface of just saying hello in passing or trading texts takes a willingness to see each others’ layers, and expose our tears and cracks. Not in a pity party or mood of victimhood, but in honesty and beauty. The kintsugi of friendship.
Caramel bubbling around the edges, pastry brown and dry to the touch, the tart was done. I let it cool on a rack for a minute. I placed a platter on top, put mitts on, and carefully flipped the pan so that the cracked crust lay on the platter, pears slightly askew but still dancing on top, molasses caramel dripping over everything.
Monique and I ate the tart with goat faisselle, its curds yogurt-like. It was delicious, and decidedly imperfect. I’m trying out a new approach, I said, sharing works in progress, just as they are. I thanked her for being open to that. “Perfect isn’t the goal,” she reflected later. “Going deeper requires being comfortable with imperfection.”
I brought a slice to Emily, a baker herself, explaining I wanted to play with the deeper flavor and texture of the rye dough. By the time we connected, the tart was two days old. “I love the caramelization on the pears, and the crust is nice and sturdy without being too ‘crusty,’ she texted. “It aged really nicely!” A kind reflection reminding me to give myself as much grace as my friends do, layers of compassion deepening appreciation for each other.
Recipe as feeling: Depth (Molasses caramel pear tart)
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Invite new possibilities that deepen your experience.
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Simmer for a while. Let character develop.
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Get your hands messy.
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Let your cracks show, with delight.
Actual recipes
Molasses caramel
The caramel technique is based on the honey caramel in Alison Roman’s apricot tart. I used molasses instead of honey, because I was going for a deeper flavor, and after some experimentation used half the water and a specific cooking time to get the caramel to the thickness I wanted. It was spectacular in this tart and you can use it on anything that wants a dark caramel sauce.
INGREDIENTS:
¼ cup sugar
¼ cup molasses
1 tbs water
2 tbs butter
1 tbs apple cider vinegar (other vinegars would work also)
EQUIPMENT:
1 small saucepan
Wooden spoon for stirring
In a small saucepan, combine the sugar, molasses, and water. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to a vigorous simmer (with medium-size bubbles all over the surface), stirring constantly to prevent burning and sticking. You won’t be able to see much color change since the molasses is so dark, so at about the five-minute mark, use your sense of smell to detect when the mixture has begun to caramelize – the scent will be almost burning but not quite. Remove the pot from the heat, whisk in the butter and vinegar, and place back on a gentle simmer to stir for another few minutes as it continues to thicken. On my stove with my pot, it took about 8 minutes total to reach the consistency I was looking for. The caramel will thicken more as it cools.
Molasses caramel pear tart: Version 1 (Puff pastry)
This tart is deceptively simple and comes together easily, using store-bought puff pastry, is beautiful, and delicious.
INGREDIENTS:
1 batch molasses caramel (see recipe above)
3-4 ripe pears, skins on, sliced lengthwise with ~12 slices per pear
1 sheet puff pastry, thawed
EQUIPMENT:
1 round cake or tart pan
1 platter, large plate, or cutting board to serve the tart
Preheat oven to 400℉. Prepare the caramel as described above. Pour the caramel into the bottom of an ungreased cake pan. Arrange the sliced pears in a spiral pattern around the caramel, sticking extra pears into whatever gaps there are. It’s ok for the pattern to be messy.
Unroll the puff pastry and tuck it like a blanket over the pears. Tuck the edges in around the sides of the pan, and trim off any extra beyond a border of an inch or so. Bake until the pastry is completely brown (it may puff up in the oven so make sure it has space above it), and the caramel bubbles up around the sides, about 40 minutes.
Remove from the oven and let cool for a few minutes. Place the platter, plate, or cutting board on top of the cake pan, and protecting your hands from the heat carefully flip the pan upside down onto the platter. Leave gravity to work, and then gently remove the cake pan. The crust should now be on the platter, with pears and molasses on top. If any pears have stuck to the pan, pick them out and restore them to the tart.
Serve warm or room temperature with crème fraîche, whipped cream, faisselle, or just on its own.
Molasses caramel pear tart: Version 2 (Experimental rye pie dough)
This dough is rough and fibrous with the rye flour I used, and tears easily. I didn’t add any sugar but you could (1 tablespoon or so). Or you could take it in a more savory direction and add caraway seeds for more of the flavor you’d expect from rye bread. I was inspired by Potter’s Crackers Wisconsin Rye crackers from Bloomy Cheese & Provisions.
INGREDIENTS:
For the pie dough:
Makes enough dough for two crusts. If you’re only using one, wrap the other in plastic wrap and freeze it for another use. You can make the dough in advance, wrap and chill it, and let it come to room temperature (at least 20 minutes out of the fridge) before rolling it out.
1 cup rye flour
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 tbs unsweetened cocoa powder
½ tsp kosher salt
12 tbs unsalted butter, diced into small cubes or pieces
~¼ cup ice water
For the tart:
1 batch molasses caramel (see recipe above)
3-4 ripe pears, skins on, sliced lengthwise with ~12 slices per pear
½ batch rye pie dough
EQUIPMENT:
1 rolling pin
Bench scraper if you have one
1 large mixing bowl
1 round cake or tart pan
1 platter, large plate, or cutting board to serve the tart
Make the dough: Combine the flours, cocoa powder, and salt and then sprinkle the pieces of butter on top. With your fingers, rub the flour into the butter until no visible lumps of butter are left. (You could also use a food processor for this.) Whatever lumps of butter remain will dissolve and make holes in your cooked crust, which is OK given the feeling of the recipe, so don’t worry if it happens.
Sprinkle the ice water on top of the flour-butter mixture and gently stir with a fork to combine. The flour I was using absorbs water more readily than all-purpose flour or pastry flour, so only 1/4 cup was needed, but listen to your dough and if it needs more, gradually add more (a typical all-purpose pie dough has about ½ cup water with this ratio of butter and flour). You only need as much water as it will take for the dough to stick to itself. Too much will make it tough.
Gather the dough into a ball, cut it in half, shape each half into a ball, and flatten into a round disc. At this point, you can wrap both discs in plastic and keep them in the refrigerator or the freezer until later use. Or, if you are continuing to make the tart, keep one disc out. Dust your clean countertop with flour, place the disc of dough on it, and gently roll out the dough until it’s about an eighth of an inch thick.
Preheat the oven to 400℉. Prepare the caramel as described above. Pour the caramel into the bottom of an ungreased cake pan and arrange the pears on top.
Back to the dough: If you have a bench scraper, use it to scrape underneath the dough, or use a thin knife and your hands. Carefully place it on top of the pears and tuck it around the edges, trimming off anything beyond a one-inch border. (I used the extra trimmings to make little cookies with jam.)
Bake until the pie dough looks dry and is brown in spots, and the caramel bubbles up around the sides, about 50-55 minutes.
Remove from the oven and let cool for a few minutes. Place the platter, plate, or cutting board on top of the cake pan, and protecting your hands from the heat carefully flip the pan upside down onto the platter. Leave gravity to work, and then gently remove the cake pan. The crust should now be on the platter, with pears and molasses on top. If any pears have stuck to the pan, pick them out and restore them to the tart.
Serve warm or room temperature with crème fraîche, whipped cream, faisselle, or just on its own.
Published November 1, 2022
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