Life in a mini-shell

I’m not big on new year’s resolutions. I’m not waiting another three weeks to promise you that I will not be baking any more bread that I can just as easily buy from the bakery around the corner. Instead I will be turning my attention to the occasional pastry. It’s not as crazy as it sounds. The only reason I had held off from making pastry was that I assumed pastry dough was beyond my mortal ability to make. It never occurred to me that when people said something was as easy as pie, they could be referring to the shell.

Cut cold butter into cold flour. Work a bit of cold water into the mixture until you get a rough dough. Ball it up, wrap in plastic, and let rest in the refrigerator before using. I had to rein in my obsessive-compulsive inclination to work the dough like crazy. Just keep in mind that you have to work quickly to keep the butter from melting and you should do fine. The recipe is from the husband-wife team at AmazingRibs: she cooks, he blogs. Now there’s an idea. You know what they say: if you want a maid for free, get married.

I’ll gladly pay, if it’s all the same to you.

Too bad, actually. Ours makes decent bibingka and other kakanin. Also, hotcake — the chewy kind I used to buy at the town plaza back in grade school, slathered with cheap margarine and rolled in sugar. I think Yaya T. should have no trouble adding pastry to her repertoire. I’ve only done it a few times, but already I’m doubting my ability to fill a pastry shell. Or even crimp it. I learn just now that “as easy as pie” actually refers to the act of eating — not making — one. Damn it, I knew there was a catch.

But those pecan tartlets sure look rustic, do they not? I love that word: rustic. It’s the mantra of cooks and bakers who can’t present for shit. Some people make rustic look elegant. Unfortunately for the rest of us, these people actually know what they’re doing. It’s not by accident that the food looks the way that it does. That’s why not anyone who splashes paint on a canvass is a Jackson Pollock. Not that my tarts are bad. They aren’t, but Goldilocks and Red Ribbon aren’t going to feel the heat from this corner anytime soon.

I have friends who bake. Some have made thriving businesses out of it. I admire them, not for the business part (because anyone can make money out of anything; just ask our neighborhood pimp/drug dealer) but for the sheer effortlessness of the enterprise. “Well,” offers one, “I can’t string two words together to save my ass.” I ought to be assuaged, but clearly she has no idea what she’s talking about. She must think words flow out of my fingertips as effortlessly as sarcasm from Vice Ganda’s pie-hole. Two words? If one of them is a preposition, I’m apt to have trouble with it. Writing takes patience and lots of practice. It’s hard work.

And yet I do it. As if that isn’t enough, I have to take on baking, too. It’s not as crazy as it sounds. It just takes all sorts to be a masochist.

Pecan Tartlets

This is adapted from two separate recipes by Meathead and Lou Goldwyn at AmazingRibs. The pecan tassies recipe comes with its own crust, but I had some leftover pastry dough so I used that instead.

For the shell:
• 2 ¼ cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon salt
• ½ teaspoon baking powder
• ½ cup (1 stick) cold unsalted butter, cubed
• ¼ cup cold lard, cubed
• 6 tablespoons iced water

1. In a bowl, combine flour, salt, and baking powder. Let bowl cool in the refrigerator for an hour. Do the same with the butter and lard. If you do not have lard, substitute with more butter.
2. If you have a food processor, use the steel-blade attachment. Pour in flour mixture along with the butter and lard. Pulse a few times until you get pea-sized granules. If using a pastry cutter, pour flour mixture onto a clean flat surface and cut butter and lard into it until you get the desired texture. Do this step as quickly as possible. Avoid handling ingredients with your bare hands and do not overwork so the butter and lard melt as little as possible.
3. On a flat surface, form a well in the center of the mix. Pour in half of the iced water and quickly cut it in. Form another well and cut the rest of the water into the mix, then work the mixture with your hands until it coheres into one rough ball. Do not overwork the dough to avoid forming gluten or melting the butter and lard, otherwise your crust will not be as flaky. For ease of use later, divide dough into two balls and wrap tightly in plastic. Leave 4 hours to harden in the refrigerator before using.

For the filling:
• ½ cup pecans, toasted and coarsely chopped
• ¾ cup dark brown sugar
• 1 large egg
• ½ teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 teaspoon salted butter, melted

1. Preheat your oven to 350°F.
2. Take dough out of the refrigerator and let it sit at room temperature for 10 minutes or until pliant enough to work with. Form into small balls and press one each to a well of a mini-muffin pan until you form a hollow cup. Sprinkle a layer of chopped pecans into each cup.
3. Whisk together egg, vanilla extract, melted butter, and dark brown sugar. Do not overmix. Pour into cups until filled about ⅔ of the way. Top with more chopped nuts, but remember that the filling will rise, so do not overdo it.
4. Bake for 30 minutes or until cups turn golden. Remove from oven and allow to cool for 15 minutes. Pop tartlets out of the pan and refrigerate if not serving immediately.