Beds and Tarts

The blonde pointed out yesterday that I have neglected my blog. This is true. I’ve been playing with tester pots, watching the puppy grow and grabbing any other excuse not to work in the garden, hence negating the need.

Why the sudden apathy? (You ask)

Not apathy! (I reply).  The lull in blogging is down to what I’ve come to consider a period of adjustment, which has required much sipping of chilled wine whilst contemplating the work I’ve done. It has taken some time adjusting to a garden bereft of trees.

But I’m over that. Willow is now twice the size he was when first brought home. He sits when you ask him, will recall if I have sausage and enjoys socialising Parliament Hill Fields way because the walk culminates in a pig's ear for him and a chilled Picpoul for me, carafe of, at The Bull and Last. So without wanting to sound too content, it has all been rather pastoral. It's now raining and Willow is asleep in his new grey bolster bed from Mungo & Maud, which I highly recommend, not least because of the giant hessian sack you get to take it away in. 

When the garden is finished I shall turn the sack into an outdoor pad for Willow, who enjoys sitting on it.

They are almost the same colour.


Also, a few post-Chelsea ideas simply won’t go away.  So it's been back to the drawing board as Bunny Guinness and The Bulldog Forge Garden have inspired the dedication of border 3 to a raised vegetable bed. The blonde’s newly raised beds have also flourished in recent rains and I like that they are neat and that I shall never, in my imagined garden of the future, have to bend over to tend the curly kale. I’ve an eye on the superior range at Harrods Horticultural and am awaiting a quote. Their timber beds featured at Chelsea, where Harrod scooped up a Certificate of Merit.

I also fancy slate walls much like The Magistrates Garden instead of fencing in places. And some fretwork panels here and there. And an outdoor day bed to divide border 2. And on a shoestring budget.

And by September.

With all this hard work to do, I intend to commit myself fully to the task mid July. Until then, walks with Willow are the order of the day. And investing in tester pots, which always proves prudent. I picked up all 3 blacks F&B have to offer. 

Railings

Off Black

Pitch Black

Both Railings and Off-Black lean towards dark slate, particularly in the sunlight, so I've gone for a small pot of Pitch Black in eggshell to test as soon as the weather picks up. F&B’s exterior wood paint comes in either eggshell or gloss; the former has a 20% sheen that I shall gladly live with as Cuprinol's budget matt black in the Garden Shades range has a sheen reminiscent of council jobs. To my eye anyway.

Completely off the point, I thought to share this apple tart recipe with you. I am making it for guests tonight.

I don’t often do desserts. Being terrible at all things pastry, it comes as a relief to find a tart I can muddle through without the stress that comes with the territory. Also, people really enjoy the results – which is what you want.

The recipe is from Smitten Kitchen. It has some pedigree, having come from Alice Waters, who took it from Jacques Pepin who created it some 20 years ago. In keeping with evolution, I haven’t followed the rules. I use the ingredients to produce 2 very thin-based tarts, rather than Smitten’s 1.  It is imperative that you use tart tins that allow you to push the base out. Especially if you are me.

Here are the ingredients:

1 mug unbleached all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon sugar

1/8 teaspoon salt

3/4 of a block of unsalted butter, slightly soft and cut in 1/2-inch cubes

31/2 tablespoons chilled water

Filling:

2 pounds tart but firm apples (I use Golden Delicious), peeled, cored (save peels and cores), and sliced

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

5 tablespoons sugar

Glaze:

1/2 cup sugar

What I do is this:

• 1.      Preheat oven to 180
• 2.      I mix the dough ingredients in a blender
• 3.      Kneed the mix into a rough ball adding flour if need be. I often don’t bother chilling it either, as I once forgot and it didn’t seem to matter
• 4.      Divide the ball in two and roll each out on greaseproof paper into a circle roughly the size of the tart tin. The point here is to get the pastry really thin and flip it into the tart dish. Then peel the greaseproof paper off. The greatest joy is that if, like me, you do end up with tears in the pastry, it doesn’t matter one jot. A bit of patchwork, or squidging of edges together, and then the seams remain hidden under the rows of apple slices, which get a lovely glaze from the butter and sugar which binds it all together at the end
• 5.      Peel and core the apples and then cut into thin crescent slices, keeping the peels and cores for later, and then layer them in a fan shape, following the curve of the tart tin
• 6.      Before popping in the oven, brush all over with 2 tablespoons of melted butter, and sprinkle liberally with the sugar, then bake for about an hour, or until golden. It is worth checking it and rotating the tin half way through, to get even colour
• 7.     While it’s in the oven, heat the peels and cores with the ½ cup of sugar in a pan until it becomes syrupy. Brush this over the tart