Brined Pork Chops with Fresh Apricot & Ginger Compote

Over the years the things I have chosen to post to my blog have been driven by a lot of different things.  Sometimes I post foods I make for my private dinner clients.  Occasionally—not often as I had originally planned—I post explanations and descriptions of basic cooking and baking techniques.  Most of the things I share come from two sources: the things I am working on/testing for my classes…and the seasonal/market driven foods I am making for my own table.  Recently I decided to design a class around things that were all already on my blog—a class filled with recipes from the latter of these two categories….things that I had come up with for my home table that we loved so much they ended up on my blog.

 

As I was putting the class together—gathering some favorite early summer recipes from over the years (Potato Salad with Spring Herb Pesto & Peas, Gemelli with Mushrooms, Sugar Snap Peas &Goat Cheese, Market Coleslaw with Sweet Corn, Kohlrabi & Carrots, and Pistachio & Strawberry Friands)—I thought of a recipe that has been on my “to make someday” list for a long time:  Pork Chops with Fresh Apricot Glaze from Maria Helm Sinskey’s book Vineyard Seasons.  I decided to add it to the class in order to force myself to finally make it.  I knew if I liked it that it would end up here.

I was so glad I added it to the syllabus.  It was delicious!  And I have to say that I wasn’t surprised.  I love Sinskey’s recipes.  I did end up altering the recipe quite a bit—not because I didn’t like the flavors…or her method…but rather because she cooked her chops on the grill (which I’m certain makes for very tasty chops…I’m just not a fan of standing out in the hot sun over a hot grill when I could be cooking in my cool(er), air-conditioned kitchen….) and she used bone-in chops.  Frankly, I think the bone-in chops would be delicious—but for my purposes both at home and in class, boneless makes more sense (the boneless chops slice nicely so that you can get two servings out of one thick chop for a dinner for smaller appetites….or nice tasting portions for a class).

The brine I used is a simple, basic brine from Samin Nosrat’s book Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat.  It is a brine that is intended to add moisture and seasoning. It has less salt (four percent salinity by weight) than a lot of brines (and less than the one Sinskey uses), but I like it like this because when I use it I just get a nice, juicy piece of pork—and not something that seems cured or ham-like.  Following Sinskey’s recipe I added some fresh ginger to the brine…but you could leave it out.  You can also add other aromatics, herbs and/or spices of your choice.  Because the brine is mild, you don’t have to rinse the brined meat, but I do any way.  When it comes to brined meats, when in doubt, I always rinse.  The meat will be fully seasoned within…and you don’t risk having way too much salt/sugar on the exterior.  Whether you rinse or not, be sure to dry the surfaces of the meat well before put it in the sauté pan or on the grill (if it’s wet it will stick and it won’t caramelize properly).

The brined pork is delicious.  But it is the apricot sauce/compote/glaze (it is quite versatile) that is the star of the show here.  Sweet….tangy…savory…  with a hint of heat (you can add more if you like)….  It is just so tasty.  The recipe makes what will seem like a generous quantity, but you will want it all.  It could also be used with chicken…or turkey…or even some nice baby back ribs.  I will be making it every summer from now on.




I altered the sauce from the original in only a couple of ways.  I leave it chunky instead of blending it to a purée.  Not only do I prefer the appearance of a chunky sauce, leaving it this way advertises the fact that you used fresh apricots (instead of jam or preserves, for example).  If you want to use it as a glaze or final swab for grilled meats, I think it would be best in its puréed form.

The other change is also fairly minor.  I have given a range for the amount of sugar to add as opposed to a set amount.  Apricots vary widely in sweetness and one batch might need very little sugar...while the next will be quite tart and need a lot.  I always start the sauce with the lesser amount and then after about twenty minutes of cooking—when the sauce is nearing its final consistency—I start tasting and adding more if necessary.  You are aiming for a sauce that is nicely balanced between tangy and sweet. 

The first time I made these pork chops I served it with Toasted Pine Nut Couscous and Wilted Greens.  I couldn’t believe how good it was. (Unfortunately I didn’t take a picture….)  I was so enamored with the these chops that I decided to make it for our Fourth of July celebration this year.  I served it with Sweet Corn Coleslaw and Étuvéed Baby Potatoes.  It was just the thing.  Hopefully I will discover a few other delicious pairings before the fleeting season for apricots is past....

Brined Pork Chops with Fresh Apricot & Ginger Compote

Brine:
1/3 c. Morton’s kosher salt (or 80g. salt of your choice)
1/4 c. sugar (50 g.)
4 large cloves of garlic, peeled and lightly crushed
1/2 t. red pepper flakes
2 T. peeled and minced fresh ginger (20 g.—if you are weighing, simply slice the ginger)
1 bay leaf
 6 to 8 pork chops (Boneless loin or bone in rib—as you prefer, as long as
            they are nice thick—1 inch or more—chops)

Place the salt, sugar, garlic, pepper flakes, ginger and bay in a pot with 3 cups of water.  Bring to a simmer and simmer gently until all the salt & sugar has dissolved.  Remove from the heat and add 6 cups of cold/ice water.  Allow the brine to cool to room temperature.  Submerge the pork chops in the brine and refrigerate for 8 to 24 hours.  An hour before cooking, remove the chops from the brine (rinse, or not, as you prefer).  Pat dry before cooking.  Discard the brine.

Apricot Sauce:
2 to 2 1/2 T. olive oil
1 large or 2 medium shallots (about 2 oz.), finely diced
2 t. minced garlic
2 T. minced fresh ginger (20 g)
1/4 t. red pepper flakes
2 lbs. ripe apricots, halved, pitted and roughly diced
1/2 to 1 c. brown sugar (adjust to the sweetness of the apricots)
3 T. white wine vinegar
1 t. salt
2/3 c. water

Warm the olive oil in a wide sauce pan set over moderate heat.  Add the shallots, garlic, ginger and pepper flakes and sweat until tender—about 10 minutes.  Add the apricots and cook briefly, stirring until well coated in the shallot mixture. 

Add the remaining ingredients (starting with the smaller amount of sugar) 

and simmer until thickened and glossy—about 30 minutes (you should have about 2 2/3 to 3 c. compote).  

After about 20 minutes of cooking, begin tasting and add sugar as needed.  When the sauce is finished, taste again and correct the seasoning with salt, sugar and vinegar.

Prepare the pork chops:
Olive oil
Brined Pork Chops
Finished Apricot Glaze
1/2 to 2/3 c. white wine or water, optional

Preheat the oven to 400­°.  Heat an ovenproof sauté pan large enough to hold the chops in a single layer (or use two pans) over moderately high heat.  Film the pan with oil.  Add the chops to the pan.  Sear, turning once, until the chops are nicely browned.  

Smear the chops with some of the apricot glaze and turn a couple of times to coat.  Transfer the pan to a preheated 400° oven and cook until the chops are done to your liking (an instant read thermometer will read between 130° and 135° for medium).  Total cooking time (including the time on the stove and in the oven) will be about 7 to 10 minutes (for 1 inch boneless chops—more for bone -in or thicker chops).  Remove the pan from the oven and transfer the chops to a platter.

If the apricot glaze on the chops didn’t get too dark in the pan, make a quick pan sauce while the chops rest.  Place the pan over medium-high heat and add the white wine.  Bring to a simmer, scraping the pan well to release all the caramelized bits (if using two pans, combine the drippings into one pan) and reducing by half to two-thirds.  Add the remaining apricot glaze, along with any resting juices from the pork, to the pan and warm through.  

If the sauce is too thick, let it out with water…if too thin, reduce briefly.

Serve the pork chops with the warm apricot compote.  Serves 6 to 8 

Variation:  If you prefer, you may grill or broil the pork chops.  Puree the compote to make a smooth sauce.  After the first side is cooked, turn, brush with the sauce.  When the pork is almost done, turn again, brushing the remaining surface with the sauce and allowing each glazed surface to be exposed to the heat for a minute or two so the sauce will caramelize, but not burn.  Obviously there will not be any deglazings to combine with the remaining sauce.  Simply serve the remaining sauce on the side as you would with your favorite BBQ sauce. 

(Recipe adapted from The Vineyard Kitchen by Maria Helm Sinskey)

Printable Version

I have recently become reacquainted with an old friend:  a drop scone recipe.  I favored this scone for years prior to being introduced to the marvelous Cream Scone.  It is a sad fact that in cooking...as with anything I suppose...when we discover something new and wonderful, we often abandon the old....even though the old might have been pretty wonderful too.  Having rediscovered it, I would like to introduce others to this old friend—given new life from the introduction of fresh sweet cherries—that in its own way is just as special and worthy as the cream scone that supplanted it.

My rediscovery came about because of an email I received from a friend who is spending her summer in the Pacific Northwest.  It has apparently been a banner year for cherries and she was wondering if I thought cherries might work in the cream scone recipe...or perhaps if I even had a special fresh cherry scone recipe. 

Unfortunately I didn't think I had a recipe for a scone that would handle the addition of fresh fruit.  The cream scone  dough is somewhat stiff and even if you were able to incorporate fresh fruit into the dough without crushing the fruit, it seemed to me that the water released during the baking process would make the resulting scone kind of gummy. 

I then remembered the drop scone recipe.  It is from a little book called Biscuits & Scones by Elizabeth Alston.  This particular scone incorporates a marbled swirl of a thick dried apricot compote.  It occurred to me that my friend could make a fresh cherry compote (well-reduced...slightly thicker than the one I added to my semifreddo) and use it in the same way in this recipe.

She tried it....and liked it...but reported back that she was really wanting scones that were punctuated with juicy chunks of fresh cherries rather than cooked cherries.  Also, in the interim she had found a recipe for fresh cherry scones and had tried it too.  She was surprised that the recipe worked...that the cherries didn't flood the scones with juice.  She emailed the recipe to me so I could also try it.  As I examined it I was struck by its similarity to my drop scone recipe.  There were also some big differences, but the similarities were enough to make me want to try my old recipe—which I knew to be a good basic recipe—to see how it would work with chunks of fresh cherries. 

They turned out beautifully....light, crusty, tender, moist and studded with chunks of juicy cherries.  I am a bit stumped as to why the cherries don't make the scone soggy or gummy...but they don't.  I can think of several reasons why this might be the case...but in the end, I feel I should admit that I am only making an educated guess. 

As I have thought about it, the first thing that strikes me is that these scones have an unusually high amount of egg.  This gives them a lot more structure than a typical scone and more of an ability to absorb extra moisture.  As an aside, this large quantity of egg could make for a dry scone.  But, there is also a higher percentage of butter in these scones which I imagine is responsible for counteracting the drying effect of the eggs. 

The other thing that is different about these scones is that you are directed to freeze them before you bake them.  It is possible to successfully bake just about any scone from frozen, but for these particular scones it seems to be a necessary step.  The mixing method is a bit unusual and I think tends to develop a bit more gluten than is desirable.  Chilling—or freezing—the formed scones will allow the gluten to relax and as a consequence you will get a more tender scone.  When fresh fruit has been added to the dough, I think the freezing step has an added benefit:  Because the fruit goes into the oven at a much lower temperature, it will necessarily spend less time at temperatures high enough to cause it to begin to break down.  Right about the time the cherries get hot enough to begin to soften and give up their juices, the scone is done baking. 

But, as I said, this is mostly conjecture.  However, because I think the freezing step is integral to the success of these scones, I wouldn't omit it...tempting as that might be.  I love the fact that I can make these, freeze them, and then bake one—or two—whenever the mood strikes.  Also, the freezing step makes them the perfect thing to make ahead in preparation for house guests. 

For those who love my cream scones, don't worry, I love them too and will not be abandoning them anytime soon.  If I want a "quick" scone—one that I can mix and bake on the spot and is amazingly delicious to boot—I will always choose to make cream scones.  But, if I want an incredibly delicious fresh cherry (or fresh apricot!) scone, I will be making these from now on.   

With chunks of fresh apricots and topped with pistachios....

Sweet Cherry & Almond Scones

175 to 200 g. (a heaping cup) Bing cherries (or other sweet red cherry)

340 g. (3 c.) All-purpose Flour

1 T. Baking Powder

1/2 t. Salt

1/2 lb. Unsalted butter, at room temperature

100 g. (1/2 c.) Sugar

3 large Eggs, lightly beaten, just until broken up and smooth

1/2 t. Almond extract

80 g. (1/3 c.) Plain yogurt (or buttermilk)

60 g. (2/3 c.) sliced almonds

Turbinado sugar, for sprinkling

Pit the cherries.  Halve and quarter them. Cut the quarters crosswise.  Your goal is 1/3- to 1/2-inch chunks of cherries—small enough to be well-dispersed in the dough, but large enough to be discernible chunks of sweet cherry in the baked scone.  Set aside.

Combine the flour, baking powder and salt and set aside.  Cream the butter and sugar until pale and fluffy (about 3 minutes).  Add the eggs in 5 or 6 additions, beating until incorporated after each addition and stopping to scrape down the bowl once or twice.  

The eggs are added in small increments so that they will
emulsify smoothly and completely into the butter sugar mixture.

Beat in the almond extract.  Blend in half of the dry ingredients.  Add the yogurt, mixing just until blended.  Add the remaining dry ingredients to the bowl, followed by the cherries.  

By hand, fold just until the flour is absorbed and the cherries are evenly dispersed.  

Using a 1/3 or 1/4 cup capacity ice cream scoop, scoop the dough onto a parchment-lined baking sheet.  Using a spoon or rubber spatula, flatten the scones slightly.  

Sprinkle each generously with the almonds and then the sugar.  

Loosely cover with plastic wrap and freeze until hard.  Cut the parchment in between the scones and place the scones (attached to their  parchment squares) in a freezer bag.  Freeze for up to 6 weeks. 

To bake, place as many scones as you like on a baking sheet (spaced evenly, 2 to 3 inches apart) and bake in the upper third of an oven preheated to 375°F until golden and springy to the touch—about 25 minutes.  Transfer the scones to a rack, cool slightly and serve.  Makes 12 to 14.

(Adapted from Biscuits and Scones by Elizabeth Alston)

Notes & Variations:

• I have made these with as few as 150 grams of cherries (a level cup) and as much as 200 grams (a generously heaped cup).  I think 200 grams is the maximum amount of fruit the scones will hold...more than that and they will tend to be a bit damp.
• Apricot and Plum Variations:  Replace the cherries with 6 oz. of fresh apricots or plums (2 or 3)—pitted, sliced and then cut into a 1/3- to 1/2-inch dice.  If you like, replace the almond extract with 1 t. vanilla.  Top the apricot scones with finely chopped pistachios and the plum with lightly toasted (and skinned) chopped hazelnuts.

Printable Recipe

Summer Fruit Kuchen



A couple of weeks ago I posted about the many different things one could possibly mean when using the word cobbler. I shared a recipe for a biscuit-topped cobbler—which is what I mean when I say "cobbler"—but this of course doesn't mean that I don't eat and enjoy the many other kinds of things that can be identified as a cobbler (I just call them something else).

Several years ago a good friend rounded out an early summer dinner with a wonderful little cake that was loaded with summer fruit. I liked it so much that I asked for the recipe. When I sat down to look at it I was surprised to see that it was called "Fresh Fruit Cobbler". The recipe is from the book The Art of Quick Breads and the author, Beth Hensperger, readily admits in her description of the recipe that it really is much more like the beloved kuchens (or cakes) of German, Swiss and Austrian Baking. Whatever one chooses to call it (I prefer kuchen), it is delicious.

A few years later, I ran across a surprisingly simple recipe at the back of The French Laundry Cookbook for Cranberry and Apple Kuchen. The recipe is very similar to Hensperger's "cobbler". I have made both recipes and prefer the cake portion in the French Laundry version and the topping in Hensperger's. The recipe I am posting today is my combination of the two.

This versatile and simple dessert can be made with just about any fruit—or combination of fruits—you like. The French Laundry version uses 1/4-inch thick slices of apples and whole fresh cranberries or blueberries. Beth Hensperger suggests sweet cherries (halved and pitted), raspberries, or any of the summer stone fruits (apricots, plums, nectarines, peeled peaches)—halved, pitted and sliced 1/2-inch thick, chunks of rhubarb or slices of pear...even sliced bananas. In the early autumn I have made it with nothing but pitted and quartered Italian Prune plums.

My favorite summer variation is 1 1/2 cups of raspberries (a 6 oz. box) with 3 cups of sliced apricots or plums (or a combination of the two).

The fruits may be scattered casually over the surface of the cake, or arranged in spirals or concentric circles.

When I include berries in the mix, I don't toss them with the lemon juice...I scatter them separately over the cake.  I toss the remaining sliced fruits with the lemon juice before spreading over the cake.  If you are making an all berry kuchen, just drizzle the lemon juice over the berry topped batter...tossing berries with lemon juice—particularly raspberries and blackberries—will cause them to break apart.

When you build the cake you will look at the quantity of fruit to be spread over the batter and probably think that it is too much—particularly when compared to the measly looking amount of batter in the bottom of the pan. But when you are eating the cake you will discover that the ratio of cake to fruit is just right.

This kuchen is best served the day it is made. I think it is at its peak a few hours after it has been removed from the oven. At that point it will have had time to cool down, making it possible to really taste the fruit. Also, the kuchen will have begun to absorb the fruit juices, making for a soft, tender and moist cake infused with fruit flavor. On the second day, the cake portion will have absorbed more moisture and depending on the fruit—and the person eating the cake—it could be described as a bit soggy. In this state it is in fact a bit more cobbler-like (for those who think of cobbler as a cakey concoction), and is still quite tasty. In reality, it is unlikely that there will be any kuchen left after the first day...but, if there are leftovers, this dessert then becomes what I would call a perfect breakfast.

Summer Fruit Kuchen

1 1/2 c. all purpose flour
2 t. baking powder
1/4 t. salt
1/4 t. ground nutmeg
6 T. unsalted butter, room temperature
3/4 c. granulated sugar
1 large egg
1 1/2 t. vanilla
1/2 c. milk
4 to 4 1/2 c. prepared fruit (see notes)
1 T. freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/4 c. sugar
1/2 t. cinnamon

Preheat an oven to 350ºF. Adjust rack so it is in the lower third of the oven (see notes). Butter a 10-inch round cake pan. Line the bottom with a round of parchment, butter the parchment and flour the pan. Set aside.

Combine the first four ingredients in a small bowl and set aside.

Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the egg. Combine the milk and vanilla. Fold in the dry ingredients in three additions, alternately with the milk mixture in two additions.

Spread the batter in the prepared pan. Toss the fruit with the lemon juice and spread evenly over the batter (drizzle any juices remaining in the bowl over the fruit). Combine the sugar and cinnamon and sprinkle in an even layer over the fruit. Bake until a wooden toothpick inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean, 40 to 50 minutes. Serves 8 to 10.

Notes:
• Fruit may be any combination of whole berries, halved and pitted cherries, pitted and sliced (1/2-inch thick) plums, apricots, or nectarines, peeled, pitted and sliced (1/2-inch thick) peaches, pitted and quartered prune plums, chunks of rhubarb, or 1/4-inch thick wedges of peeled apple or pear.
• In my oven, this cake bakes best if placed in the lower third of the oven. Bake in the middle of the oven if you have an oven with very strong bottom heat.

(Recipe adapted from The French Laundry Cookbook by Thomas Keller and The Art of Quick Breads by Beth Hensperger)


Printable Version

Apricot Custard Tart with Almonds



I taught a class this week featuring a few of my favorite summer fruit desserts. One of the desserts was an Apricot Custard Tart with Almonds. This tart has been in my repertoire for years, but it had been a while since I made it. I had forgotten how good it is. Soft, creamy custard, perfumed with almond and punctuated with the bright tang of apricot...it really is an excellent summer tart. I returned home from my class wanting another piece. So, the next day I made a point to go to the store to pick up some apricots.

Unfortunately, the apricots at my grocery store didn't look so great. But right next to the apricots there was a big bin of beautiful "Black Velvet Apricots". If you have never come across this kind of apricot before, they look pretty much like what you would imagine upon hearing the name: the skin is a purple-y black with the velvet feel of an apricot. Since they looked so nice, I thought I would give them a try in the tart.

When you read through the recipe, you will notice something a bit unusual for a pastry recipe. For a couple of the ingredients, the quantity is given as a range rather than a definite amount. This is because the amount of custard is too much for a 9-inch tart—but half a recipe would not be enough. The quantity is actually a better fit for a 10 1/2-inch tart pan...but most people don't have this size (9-inch is the standard size called for in most recipes). So the smaller amounts listed for the fruit and almonds are for a 9-inch tart and the larger amounts are for a 10 1/2-inch (you should have more than enough custard for either size). No matter what size you choose to make, you should be aware that the amount of fruit called for in the recipe is really only a guideline anyway. You may pack the fruit into the shell as tightly or as sparsely as you like—depending on what kind of ratio of custard to fruit you prefer.

Any custard that you have left after building your tart can be used to make a little cook's treat: Fill a buttered ramekin or shallow gratin with a layer of fruit (any berry or stone fruit will work) and pour the custard over. Bake in a 375° oven until puffed, golden and set. Cool slightly, dredge with powdered sugar and enjoy.

When I got home with my Black Velvet Apricots and cut in to one, I realized that what I was looking at was actually a cross between an apricot and a plum.

There are many such crosses on the market...plumcot, aprium, pluot...usually the name reveals that it's a cross. I suppose I should have guessed that this was a cross with a plum just by looking at the color of the skin, but I didn't. The first thing that gave away the Black Velvet Apricot's lineage was the pit. It looked much more like the pit of a plum than an apricot—although it was not as tightly attached to the flesh as it usually is in a plum (one of the nice things about apricots is how easy the pit is to remove). The next thing I noticed was the flesh. Although deep orange like an apricot, it had the slightly translucent quality of a plum. I tasted one. It was quite juicy with sweet flesh and tart skin...just like a plum.

I have never made this particular tart with plums, so I wasn't sure how it would work. Apricots have a drier flesh than plums and I was concerned this apricot-plum cross might be a bit juicier than the custard could handle. Over the years I have made this tart with fruits other than apricots. I have found that it works well with Bing Cherries and with Berries (I posted a version made with raspberries and red currants from the St. Paul farmers' market a couple of years ago). So, since the custard and crust were ready to go....and I really wanted to eat a slice of apricot custard tart...I decided to go ahead and give it a try.

The Black Velvet Apricots made a beautiful tart. Just like plums, their skins turn a jewel tone purple when they cook, so the tart underneath the almond topping is a pretty mosaic of purple, cream and apricot. It tasted good too. But, just as I suspected, the Black Velvet Apricots released a bit more juice during the cooking process than a plain apricot would, making for a much softer and more delicate tart. If I had my choice, I would always make this tart with traditional apricots. But, if Black Velvet were the only ones available, I would use them again. Either way, this is a delicious summer fruit tart.

Apricot Custard Tart with Almonds

2 eggs
1/2 c. sugar
2 T. all-purpose flour
1 c. heavy cream
1/2 t. almond extract

1 9- to 10 1/2-inch blind-baked sweet tart crust (recipe below)

3/4 to 1 lb. ripe apricots, halved, pitted and sliced 3/4-inch thick
2/3 to 3/4 c. sliced almonds
powdered sugar


In a small bowl, whisk the eggs with the sugar. Whisk in the flour. Add the cream and the almond extract and whisk until smooth. Set aside.

Arrange the apricots in concentric circles in the pre-baked tart shell. Carefully pour the custard over, jiggling the pan a bit to help distribute the custard. You may not need all of the custard—there should be just under a quarter inch of space between the top of the custard and the rim of the shell. Scatter the almonds over the surface of the tart.






Place the tart on a baking sheet and bake at 375° until custard is puffed and the tart is golden—about 30 to 40 minutes.


Cool slightly. The tart may be served warm or at room temperature. Sprinkle with powdered sugar before serving. Chill any leftovers (however, the tart is best eaten the day it is made). Serves 8 to 10

(Recipe adapted from Four Star Desserts by Emily Luchetti)

Pâte Sablé (Sweet Tart Dough):
1/2 c. (1 stick) unsalted butter
6 T. granulated sugar
1 egg yolk
1 t. vanilla
1 1/4 c. all-purpose flour
1/3 cake flour

Briefly cream the butter and sugar together until smooth. Beat in the egg yolk and the vanilla. Add the flours and mix until well combined. Form the dough into a thick disk. Use immediately, or wrap in plastic and chill or freeze. Let the dough soften before rolling out.

On a lightly floured board (or between 2 sheets of plastic wrap), roll dough out to a thickness of 1/8- to 3/16-inch Brush off the excess flour and transfer the dough to a greased tart pan. Ease the dough into the pan being careful not to stretch it and pressing it against the sides of the tart pan. Use your hands or the rolling pin to gently cut the dough flush with the upper rim of the tart pan.

To blind bake, place the shell on a cookie sheet and bake in a 375° oven until set and golden—10-15 minutes. (It is not necessary to fill this crust with pie weights.)

Note: This amount of dough is enough for 1 1/2 9-inch tart pans. I generally make up a double batch and divide it into 3 disks of dough. Freeze the disks that you don’t need. Use within 3 to 4 months.