I wasn’t planning to do it all yesterday. I thought I would just start with the jam. I made the first batch in the morning, and by early afternoon the remaining apricots said, “It’s time.”
It being a Sunday afternoon, in France, my options were limited. I only had enough sucre spécial confiture (sugar for making jam) to create another small batch. I decided that I would make a tart as well. It became clear very quickly that I was going to have to Elsie my way through this. Within each recipe there was something that I didn’t have. Almond flour. Nope. Next. Whipping cream. No. Next. And this went on and on as the stores remained closed. I finally stumbled upon one where I had almost everything but the corn starch. Google recommended Arrowroot or Psyllium husk. If my pantry didn’t contain corn starch, how likely was it to contain Psyllium husk? My inner Elsie took over. More flour here, mixed with a dash more sugar. Vanilla, why not. And some of the jam I made that morning — of course I added it atop the fresh apricots and my homemade crust.
While the tart was in the oven, I made another batch of the apricot jam. No apricots lost, and the house smelled of sweet victory. The thing is, we don’t always get to be ready. Possibly never. Yet, life ripens before us at a blistering pace, handing us a bowl of apricots, (sometimes lemons), and we get to decide whether we’re going to make something of it, or not.
I’ve always been a bit of a worrier. It was my Grandma Elsie who showed me how to tweak that recipe and change it from worrier to warrior. With 9 children, “open or closed on a Sunday” would have been the least of her battles. And yet she conquered them all, ever so sweetly.
It turns out the most important ingredients in a French tart are Swedish hands and a creative heart. Bon Appétit!
