Have we discussed tomatoes yet? What? We haven’t?
Well.
One summer many years ago, I stumbled upon a recipe
for an heirloom tomato tart. I’d never attempted a tomato tart before, and at
that time heirloom tomatoes weren’t nearly as plentiful and/or popular as they
are now, but I knew I wanted to try it because I saw that the recipe called for
cornmeal in the crust. Though I’d never
been told or taught that tomatoes and cornmeal are an excellent combination, I
remembered (still remember, in fact) a salad I’d had at a restaurant long ago
that consisted of balsamic-dressed greens topped with cornmeal crusted roasted
tomatoes and a bit of goat cheese. Of all the restaurant meals I’ve had, that
one stands out as one of the simplest and best flavor combinations. So when I
saw the recipe for the tomato tart, I thought I might be able to reimagine that
long-ago salad. It was still early days for me, baking-wise, and I was so
nervous around pastry dough that I followed recipes to the letter. I spent a
small fortune on heirloom tomatoes (see: they weren’t yet popular) and got to
work.
The crust (containing flour, cornmeal, olive oil, butter,
and salt) was quite sturdy (probably sturdier than it needed to be because I’d
made it a bit thick), but it needed some heft to stand up to the sweet
delicious juiciness of the tomatoes. As for the other ingredients? Fresh thyme,
black olives, and, yes, goat cheese to finish. Very simple, fairly rustic, and…really
delicious.
It was August and quite warm. My kitchen and dining
room are west-facing so suppertime can get quite hot. Despite the salad (dressed
with balsamic, naturally) and the cool drinks, that tart was hot. It goes in
and out of the oven a few times, heating up the kitchen even more, and seems to
retain its warmth for quite a while after it’s done.
Actually, I might be wrong about that. As I think
back on it now, we may have gotten so heated up because we ate the thing so
fast. G—my enabler and cake/tart muse—loved
it. He loved it so much he ate most of it and then bought me a bigger tart
pan so that the next time I made it, there would be more and maybe even
leftovers for lunch the next day. He asked me to make it again the following
weekend. So I did. And then again the weekend after that. And then…well, you
get the picture. I made that tart every week for eight weeks—as long as the
heirloom tomatoes lasted. Each time I made it, G (who happily volunteered to be
sous chef and salt the tomatoes and do the arduous work of picking a tablespoon
of thyme leaves off the sticks) would wonder; Can it be as good as it was the last time?
“I admit,” he said, “I get a little scared. What if
it’s not like I remember it? What if the thrill is gone? And it never is.”
But after eight weeks running, the thrill was kind
of gone for me. I think I’ve mentioned that I have something of an allergy to routine
and doing the same thing twice and as good as this tart was, I was dead bored
with it. Not so poor G.
So I began experimenting with other tomato tarts. I
tried a rustic cherry tomato tart with bocconcini and ricotta, a truly
excellent slow roasted tomato tart also with ricotta and parmesan, and another
cherry tomato and goat cheese tart on puff pastry. These were all good in
different ways—the bocconcini/cherry tomato tart was very hearty, the slow
roasted tomato tart had a depth and richness of flavor that was hypnotically
good, and the puff pastry tart was easy and fairly light. But as delicious as
they were, none of these tomato tarts could hold up to the original in G’s
eyes.
“Mm, good, honey,” he’d say. “But, you know, it’s
not… We haven’t had that one for a while. When might it be coming back?”
I’d really burned out on the original, I have to say
so it seemed as if we were at an impasse until I discovered a variation on that
original that was, truly, just as good. Slightly easier to make, this heirloom
tomato tart is loaded with Parmesan cheese, both in the crust and under the
tomatoes. Combined with the butter and cornmeal in the crust, this gives the
tart a crispy, cheesy, deliriously tasty flavor. Instead of thyme, this tart
uses julienned fresh basil and that’s it—just tomatoes, basil, and that
fabulous crust. Even G, as attached as he was to The Original, had to admit
that this tomato tart was just as good. So good, in fact, that it was the go-to
tomato tart for years to come.
Recently, for old times’ sake, I made G the original
tart he’d loved so much. Again, he was nervous. And again he was relieved. He
ate two-thirds of it by himself.
The heirloom tomatoes were looking pretty good at
Trader Joe’s yesterday so I bought a few pounds and will be putting them to use
tomorrow. I’m going to make the Parmesan tomato tart this time, though, because
I am also making that Orange Creamsicle cake and it’s quicker and easier than
the other. I’ll also be making a balsamic reduction to drizzle over the tart
because…if you’ve ever had it I don’t have to tell you, and if you haven’t, it
is sublime. If you’re thinking—hey, that sounds good, I wonder how she makes
it, here’s a video, made by my insanely talented friend Matt Giraud as an
addition to the book trailer he made for my novel, The Neighbors Are Watching.
(My hair is different now but the rest is much the same.)
I’ll also leave you with the recipe because why not—you
know you want it.
Enjoy.
 |
| The Original Tomato Tart |
Heirloom Tomato Tart
(serves one 9-inch tart; for a
13-inch tart, increase ingredients by 1/2)
Ingredients
Crust:
1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup cornmeal
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan
cheese
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon fresh ground pepper
1/2 cup cold butter, cut into cubes
2-4 tablespoons ice water
Filling:
1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
1 1/2 - 2 lbs. heirloom
tomatoes (sliced 1/4 inch thick)
salt
extra virgin olive oil to drizzle
fresh ground pepper
5-6 fresh basil leaves, julienned
Directions:
1. Combine flour, cornmeal,
Parmesan, salt, and pepper in a bowl and whisk to blend
2. Cut in butter, using fork,
fingers, or pastry blender until the flour forms small pea-sized pieces
3. Add 2 tablespoons ice water and
mix gently. Add more water, 1 tablespoon at a time, until the dough just holds
together. Do not overwork the dough.
4. Form the dough into a flat disk,
wrap in plastic, and let chill in the fridge for at least 1 hour and up to 24
hours
5. Roll the chilled dough between
two sheets of plastic wrap or wax paper to make a 10-11 inch circle. Carefully
ease dough into tart pan, pushing up the sides and trimming excess dough from
the sides. Chill in the fridge for another 30 minutes
6. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees
7. Blind bake the crust: Line
chilled tart with parchment paper (do not use foil) and pie weights or beans
and bake for 20 minutes
8. Prepare the filling: Line a
baking sheet or other clean surface with paper towels. Place tomatoes on the
towels and sprinkle liberally with salt. Turn the tomatoes over and repeat on
the other side. Let tomatoes drain for 20 minutes
9. When the crust is finished blind
baking, remove parchment paper and weights and sprinkle the warm crust with
Parmesan cheese
10. Arrange tomatoes in a pretty
pattern over the top
11. Drizzle with olive oil
12. Sprinkle with julienned basil
leaves and fresh ground pepper
13. Return to the oven and bake for
another 20-25 minutes; until the crust is golden brown and tomatoes are soft
14. Serve warm or at room
temperature
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