Upsetting The Apple Tart

This is a story of two tarts. Two apple custard tarts. I would like it to have been a story of one bad apple tart and how it redeemed itself and became a good apple tart and made everyone around it happier for having been near it. This is not that story.

No, this story is about two apple tarts that were alike in many ways but were dramatically different in others. One's strength was the other's weakness. Neither of them were very good, but neither were they all bad. Their goodness, overshadowed by their badness, brought joy to no one and left only disappointment in the hearts of those who tried to love them.

Apple Custard Tart #1: Went together beautifully. Crust was flaky and delicious. But when you hear the voice in your head say: "Wow... that sure seems like an awful lot of ground clove!", listen to it. Ponder. Evaluate. Trust your knowledge and experience. Tell yourself it's o.k. to not follow the printed directions to the letter. Allow that typos happen and other people's tastes are not your own. Someone may actually want a numbing sensation after finishing their dessert. Perhaps they have some pending dental work? What a waste. I couldn't even look when Hubs dumped it into the trash can.

Apple Custard Tart #2: So upset after the first disaster, I vowed to make an old favorite with the apples I had left. But no, I caved to the siren call of "you can make it again, but better". So I went with the untried, the off-trail, the gamble. It was a blisteringly hot day and the pastry dough was finicky. Tried using a different pan. Crust came out like a champ though. Omitted the cloves 100% altogether. Omitted even the thought of cloves. Added vanilla and a small amount of other sweet spices instead. Forgot to peel the apples but it turned out all the more lovely for it. Looked, smelled and tasted delightful... but the custard never set up. Pretty much needed to serve it in bowls with spoons. At least this one is edible.

The moral of this story has something to do with listening to the voice within, trusting one's-self, and making a single decision and sticking with it. 

But wait... there is a happy ending. I rolled out the leftover pastry dough, put the leftover broken pieces of apple on top, sprinkled them with a tiny bit of sugar, dotted it with butter, then I pinched the edges of dough together and baked it till it was bubbly and golden. We ate it after dinner last night... and it was all good.

The End.