Fearless Kitchen

Recipe: Khushknanaj

Recipe Source: al-Baghdādī, Muhammad ibn al-Hasan ibn Muhammad ibn al-Karīm al-Kātib. Kitāb al-Tabīkh, also known as A Baghdad Cookery Book. A. J. Arberry, trans. 1939 edition, re-published in Medieval Arab Cookery. Prospect Books, Devon, 2001 p. 86.

I've tried to make a treat called khushknānaj before, but I didn't post it. I was obviously missing something in that recipe, because the "confection" I got could have been used to replace cobblestones down by Faneuil Hall. When I was planning the menu for the big feast up in Maine I needed desserts, and I tend to prefer medieval Middle Eastern desserts to medieval European desserts. I decided to give it another try, this time using a different recipe. For those of you keeping track, this one dates to the thirteenth century AD. I was kind of nervous about it – I really didn't have enough of the other two desserts to get by. Something in this one caught my eye, though, and suggested a way to avoid making something that could be used to pave downtown streets. The recipe for the dough, not unlike the other one, called for flour and oil. However, there was another instruction: "Leave to rise."

Wait a minute. Rise? There's got to be something missing here. I'm not sure how, but maybe it's one of those things where part of the recipe was understood. You know, the way some chefs write "muffin method" instead of listing instructions. If the dough was supposed to rise, there needed to be something else besides flour and oil. Now, I don't personally know enough about bread chemistry to develop my own risen bread recipe, so I turned to my usual source: King Arthur Flour. What I did was probably akin to bibliomancy: I opened the King Arthur Flour Baker's Companion to a random page. My intent was to then flip through the book until I found something suitable. However, the page I opened to was page 232, which presented a recipe called "Beautiful Burger Buns." Interesting, I thought to myself. Furthermore, the introductory notes to the recipe were, "Soft, vaguely sweet and golden yellow…" I decided that this was the recipe I would use as a dough for my khushknānaj. I had to make some small changes here to make the recipe work. I quadrupled the recipe, and I used the sesame oil called for by al-Baghdādī instead of the butter called for in the burger buns. I used active dry yeast instead of instant, which I proofed before using. I omitted the optional onion and onion powder for reasons that are probably quite obvious to you.

This may seem a little strange to you, and the true historical purist may be a little put off by my little leap based on three words. However, the recipe worked. It was the most popular dessert that night. The little almond-filled rolls transported well, kept well at room temperature and delighted most of the people who ate them.

Khushknānaj (makes 32; approx. $0.38/ea.)

4 cups water

4 ounces sesame oil

4 eggs

55 ounces flour

40 ounces sugar, divided

4 teaspoons salt

4 tablespoons active dry yeast

1 pound almonds

2 ounces rosewater (you can probably get away with more, but not everyone loves rosewater as much as I do so I toned it down for polite company.)

Equipment:

• Stand mixer
• At least 2 large bowls, one of which can certainly be the one from your stand mixer
• Food processor
• Baking sheets

1. Combine the yeast with 1 cup sugar and the water. Set aside until very frothy.
2. Divide the flour between 2 large bowls, one of which can be your food processor bowl.
3. Add 2 ounces sesame oil to each bowl along with 2 eggs each and 2 teaspoons salt each. Mix well.
4. Add ½ the yeasted water mixture to each bowl (i.e., 2 cups per bowl.) Mix well and knead until the dough is soft and smooth. Cover and set aside in a warmish place (my kitchen in July certainly counted) for at least an hour, or until visibly risen.
5. Meanwhile, combine the remaining 32 ounces sugar with the almonds and rosewater in the food processor. Process until finely ground and well combined.
6. Divide the dough into 32 pieces, roughly equal.
7. Stuff some of the almond mixture into the middle of a piece of the dough, then cover the hole with the dough. Repeat with all of the dough and set aside another 30 minutes or so.
8. Preheat your oven to 375 ̊.
9. Bake your little cookies 12- 15 minutes, or until golden and delicious. Cool completely before serving.

Recipe: Almond Pound Cake with Whipped Cream – Nectarine Filling

I was kind of struggling to think of a dessert one Sunday. I had put it off far too long and was feeling no inspiration whatsoever. Almond pound cakes have always gone over well when I've made them in the past, why not do one again? I knew I had to do something to make this a little more interesting than just the same pound cake I keep making. I decided that whipped cream was a good option. When in doubt, add whipped cream. I also had a jar of my semi-failed nectarine in amaretto jam on hand. I decided to slice the pound cake in half like a sandwich, fill it with whipped cream and the nectarine-amaretto filling, and put it back together.

For something that came together in such a lazy way, I think this went over pretty well. People who'd already decided to not eat dessert that day changed their minds. I liked it too – it was tasty, and moist, and had just enough fruit to make it colorful.

Almond Pound Cake with Whipped Cream and Nectarine Filling (serves 8; approx. cost per serving not available)

1 Almond Pound Cake

1 jar Nectarines in Amaretto Syrup

2 cups whipped cream

Equipment:

• Nothing special

1. When you've made your pound cake, allow it to cool completely.
2. Slice the pound cake in half horizontally.
3. Spread the cut side of both halves with the whipped cream.
4. Carefully pour the nectarines in amaretto syrup onto the bottom half.
5. Carefully put the top half back onto the bottom half.
6. Wrap tightly in plastic wrap (optional), then refrigerate until ready to serve.

Recipe: John’s Lemony Birthday Cake

Recipe Source: Peterson, James. Baking. Ten Speed Press, Berkeley, 2009 pp. 8 and 46

So, my husband decided to throw himself a birthday dinner. While the dinner was really just an excuse to make an obscene amount of ribs, you can't have a birthday party without a cake. I really didn't have time to get wild and crazy with it – we'd just gotten back from the big camping trip up in Maine and I still had to finish excavating the kitchen from that mess. I decided that a basic genoise with buttercream would be good. The idea of a "quick and easy" buttercream also appealed to me.

The biggest change that I made in this recipe was switching lemon zest for orange zest. I did this because my husband loves lemon and it was his birthday cake. The result I'd have to say was mixed. The cake fell apart on me – literally a quarter of the cake came out of the pan separately from the rest. That said, buttercream hides a whole host of sins. I don't think any of our diners would have realized that I'd screwed up on the cake if I hadn't told them. I personally found the cake a little dry, but people seemed to like it well enough. Then again, they could just have been being nice.

John's Lemony Birthday Cake (serves 12; approx. $0.57/serving)

3 eggs

¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar

½ cup plus 2 tablespoons cake flour

3 tablespoons melted butter

1 ½ pounds butter, sliced

2 ½ cups confectioner's sugar

2 tablespoons grated lemon zest

Equipment:

• Stand mixer with both paddle and whisk attachments
• 9" cake pan
• Saucepan
• Small bowl
• Bowl that fits over saucepan (heatproof, please!)
• Cake rack
• Whisk

1. Preheat your oven to 350 ̊.
2. Lubricate and flour your cake pan.
3. Bring a saucepan of water to a bare simmer.
4. Combine the eggs and sugar in the bowl that fits over the saucepan. Whisk until warm and frothy.
5. Transfer the egg and sugar mixture to the bowl of the stand mixer and fit with the whisk attachment.
6. Whisk 4 minutes. Remove about 1/5 of the egg mixture and put it into the small bowl.
7. Carefully fold in the flour.
8. In the small bowl, combine the reserved egg mixture and the melted butter.
9. Fold the butter mixture into the flour mixture.
10. Spread the batter out evenly in the pan.
11. Bake 25 minutes.
12. Let cool 5 minutes in the pan, then turn out onto a cake rack.
13. Clean out the bowl of your stand mixer.
14. Beat the sliced butter for 5 minutes in the stand mixer with the paddle attachment.
15. Add the sugar and lemon zest. Beat until smooth. It is highly recommended that you start this on a slow speed or else your sugar will make a huge mess.
16. Switch to the whisk attachment and beat 5 minutes.
17. Slice your cool cake in half with a serrated knife.
18. Spread some of the buttercream frosting over the top of the bottom half, then carefully replace the top half.
19. Use the remaining buttercream to frost the remaining cake.
20. Decorate as you desire, then serve.

Recipe: Uncooked Khabis

Recipe Source: al-Warrāq, Ibn Sayyār. Annals of the Caliphs' Kitchens. Nawal Nasrallah, trans. Brill, Leiden, 2007 p. 391

This was another dessert that I made for that gathering of medieval enthusiasts up in Maine in July. I was a little leery of using coconut here. I'm not usually a big fan of coconut, but I'm getting better about that thanks to the cuisine of southern India. (Coconut doesn't have to be unpleasant and overpowering, and I'm learning to accept that.) I left it in because it's a redaction of a medieval recipe, and I have to say that I'm glad I did. It definitely added something to the dish and was in no way overpowering. I will admit that I used grated coconut from the store rather than grating my own coconut; I do not own a coconut grater, I have no desire to own a coconut grater, and don't think that I use enough coconut to make purchasing a coconut grater worthwhile. I didn't have time to skin the almonds, which certainly affects the color of the finished dish. I did color the almonds for the decoration called for in the recipe, using the official colors of our local group. The yellow didn't show up so great in the dim light I served under and the blue looked kind of black, but I knew it was there. This went over very well, and I have to say that anything that kept me from heating up my kitchen that week was most welcome!

Uncooked Khabīs (serves about 45; approx. $0.59/serving)

1 pound almonds

8 ounces grated coconut (unsweetened, of course)

3 pounds sugar

1 ½ grams saffron

1 cup almond oil

Yellow and blue food coloring

45 whole almonds

Equipment:

• Food processor
• Large bowl
• 2 small bowls
• Long roasting pan or tray

1. Divide the 45 almonds roughly in half between the two small bowls.
2. Soak one bowl of almonds in blue food coloring and one in yellow while you continue the recipe, or even longer.
3. Combine the almonds, coconut and saffron in the food processor and process until very fine.
4. Set aside ¼ pound of sugar. Pour the rest into a large bowl with the almond-coconut mixture.
5. Mix very well.
6. Add the almond oil and keep mixing. Mix until everything is "moist enough to gather in one mass." This will take a long time, and I did wind up adding a little more almond oil, but it will come out right in the end.
7. Spread the mixture evenly into the long tray and sprinkle with the reserved ¼ pound sugar.
8. Space the almonds in alternating colors evenly across the surface of the tray.
9. Serve.

Recipe: Almond Butter Pie

Recipe Source: Day, Martha. Baking. Anness Publishing, London, 2009 p. 194

My friend's daughter Penny, who is two and a half, was recently diagnosed with Celiac disease. This has got all of us kind of becoming more aware of the gluten in our lives. It is just amazing what has gluten in it. Who knew, for example, that hoisin sauce has gluten? The diagnosis came just before our Fourth of July party. While Penny's mom told us not to worry about feeding Penny, she'd bring food for her, I thought it would be a fun challenge to see if I could come up with a few things at least that Penny could eat. Finding this recipe was great – the crust was a cookie-crumb crust. I decided to use gluten-free shortbreads for the crust. In order to accommodate my own peanut allergy, I switched to almond butter as well.

Penny did not eat the pie. Penny has always been an extremely picky eater and I am never offended when she doesn't eat my cooking. There were also lots of desserts that were much better than mine on offer, so there was some almond butter pie left over. That said, I really liked this. It was extremely sweet and if I make it again I might experiment with reducing the sugar, but on the whole I liked this.

Almond Butter Pie (serves 16; approx. $1.48/serving)

8 ounces gluten-free shortbreads, ground to fine crumbs

4 ounces light brown sugar, packed

6 ounces melted butter

6 egg yolks

7 ounces sugar

4 ounces packed light brown sugar

4 ounces cornstarch

¼ teaspoon salt

2 pints evaporated milk

2 ounces butter

3 teaspoons almond extract

8 ounces almond butter

6 ounces confectioner's sugar

Equipment:

• 2 bowls
• 2 pie plates
• Heavy saucepan
• Whisk

1. Preheat your oven to 350 ̊.
2. Combine the cookie crumbs, 6 ounces brown sugar and melted butter in a bowl. Mix very well.
3. Spread the mixture into two pie plates and press to cover the bottom and sides of both plates.
4. Bake 10 minutes and let cool, but leave the oven on.
5. Combine the egg yolks, remaining brown sugar, regular sugar, cornstarch and salt in the saucepan.
6. Whisk in the milk slowly.
7. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, about 8 or 10 minutes.
8. Reduce the heat and cook until very thick, maybe 4 more minutes.
9. Beat in the remaining butter and almond extract. Remove from heat. Cover with plastic wrap very closely and leave to cool.
10. In the other bowl, combine the almond butter and confectioner's sugar. Use your hands for this – you're trying to get the consistency of fine crumbs here.
11. Reserve 6 tablespoons of this mixture and sprinkle the remaining on the bottom of the crumb crusts.
12. Pour the filling from the saucepan into the crusts, then sprinkle the remaining almond butter mixture over the top.
13. Bake 15 minutes.
14. Cool at least 1 hour before serving.

Recipe: Khabis

Recipe Source: al-Warrāq, Ibn Sayyār. Annals of the Caliphs' Kitchens. Nawal Nasrallah, trans. Brill, Leiden, 2007 p. 391

I made this dish as a dessert for a large gathering of medieval history enthusiasts up in Maine. I'll admit that I was kind of intimidated to make some of the dessert recipes in this book. Confections aren't really my strong suit – it's too much like chemistry, which I passed in high school mostly because I think the teacher felt sorry for me. Still, once I worked past the idea of making these dishes I found that it was really pretty easy. The khabīs was delicious and quite well received.

I made two major mistakes that I can identify with this dish. (I may have made more – like I said, confections aren't my strong suit, but it tasted great.) The first mistake, which was more laziness than anything else, was that I did not skin the almonds. I was really pressed for time and made a conscious decision to leave the skins on. Removing the skin would have gotten rid of the little brown flecks, which I didn't find as off-putting here as I did in the homemade marzipan. The second mistake was that I did not wait for the khabīs to set before photographing it. Ultimately the texture was much less liquid, much more akin to a very moist modern fudge, than what you see here. And have I mentioned the taste? I would make this again, and again, and again (but I don't need to be eating so many sweets.)

Khabīs (serves 25-30; approx. $0.29/serving)

12 ounces almonds, ground "as fine as flour"

2 ounces rosewater

12 ounces water

36 ounces sugar

4 ounces walnut oil

Equipment:

• Large saucepan

1. Combine the first 4 ingredients in your large saucepan.
2. Add the walnut oil.
3. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture becomes very thick.
4. Remove from heat and transfer to some sort of storage vessel. Allow to cool completely before serving.

Recipe: Milk Chocolate Pistachio Tart

Recipe Source: Dusoulier, Clotilde. "Vive la Tarte!" Martha Stewart Living no. 199 p. 180, June 2010. Find the original recipe online here.

When I was a little girl pistachios were a big deal. They always came in their shells, which had been dyed a kind of brilliant red that stained the tips of your fingers. I have no idea how they got that way. They made appearances at Christmas, when I would have to be told multiple times that it was perhaps not the most polite thing to eat all of them. (But really, which would you rather do: have pistachios and eat them, or be polite? Especially when you're five?) My love for pistachios has continued into adulthood, but it's changed a bit. Now I know that I can cook with them. I do cook with them on a regular basis, too. When I saw this recipe in Martha Stewart Living I knew I had to have it. After all, chocolate and pistachios? What can possibly go wrong?

I really only made one change to this recipe. I'd like to have made more, but I don't usually make a lot of changes to baked goods. The change was olive oil for safflower oil. I don't keep safflower oil on hand and don't have the storage space for a whole lot of oils, so I use olive oil for almost everything. There were probably a couple of procedural changes as well. When the tart first came out of the oven I was kind of disappointed. This did not look like I had envisioned. I was almost ashamed to serve it, but served it anyway. I'm glad I did. It was delicious. Amazingly delicious. Even my husband liked it.

Milk Chocolate Pistachio Tart (serves 10; approx. $0.92/serving)

¾ cup flour

¼ cup unsweetened cocoa powder

½ cup chopped pistachios

¼ teaspoon salt

1 stick butter

¼ cup sugar

½ teaspoon vanilla extract

½ cup pistachios

¼ cup sugar

1 teaspoon olive oil

5 ounces milk chocolate chips

½ cup heavy cream

¼ cup whole milk

1 egg, beaten

Equipment:

• Fluted tart pan
• Mixing bowl
• Heatproof bowl
• Small saucepan
• Food processor
• Stand mixer

1. Lubricate the fluted tart pan with your lubricant of choice. The original recommended cooking spray, which is usually my preference, but if you've got a different favorite try it and let me know how it comes out.
2. Combine the flour, first ½ cup chopped pistachios, cocoa powder and salt in your mixing bowl. I'm finding the flexible-side mixing bowls to be very useful for this sort of thing – they make it a lot easier to pour the stuff into the mixing bowl. If you don't have them, though, I don't know that it's worth going out and buying some
3. Put the butter in your stand mixer bowl and beat on medium until "fluffy." You'll know when that is.
4. Add the sugar to the butter. Beat until pale.
5. Reduce speed to low and add vanilla.
6. Add the flour mixture. Beat until barely combined and the dough holds together. Refrigerate 15 minutes.
7. Press the dough into the bottom and up the sides of the tart pan. Refrigerate until firm, at least one hour.
8. Preheat your oven to 325.
9. Bake the crust 30 minutes. Let cool completely and lower temperature to 300 ̊.
10. Pulse the whole ½ cup pistachios with the next ¼ cup sugar and ¼ teaspoon salt in the food processor until they begin to clump together.
11. Add the oil and process to a smooth paste.
12. Spread evenly into the bottom of the tart shell. Get the whole paste to be flat and smooth.
13. Put the chocolate into the heatproof bowl.
14. Combine the cream and milk in the saucepan until almost – but not quite – boiling. Pour over the chocolate and let stand 2 minutes.
15. Whisk until smooth. Let cool 10 minutes.
16. Add the egg and stir until combined.
17. Pour the bowl mixture over the pistachio paste.
18. Bake until just set, 30 – 35 minutes.
19. Cool and serve. You can garnish with more finely chopped pistachios if you want – it looks pretty.

Recipe: Nectarine Pie

I think we've established that impulse buying is sometimes a problem for me. Well, when I say problem, I mean that it's something that I do, that I know I shouldn't do, but will probably continue to do in the future. I'm sort of trying to work on that, but really, all that involves is justifying my purchases somehow. This pie came from that process. I was in the Hingham Fruit Center in the produce section and I smelled the most amazing smell. The nectarines they had that day were just perfect. As soon as the scent hit my nostrils I knew that they would be coming home with me. They were not on my list. How could I justify their purchase? With pie, of course!

I made a deliberate attempt with this pie to avoid excessive sweetness. For the most part I think I succeeded. I added the cubeb as a kind of different touch, something to make this a little more interesting than just another fruit pie. I think it worked. I know my husband liked it – I didn't actually get my own piece of pie!

Nectarine Pie (serves 8; approx. $0.79/serving)

5 nectarines, chopped

½ cup raw sugar

2 tablespoons cornstarch

½ teaspoon ground cardamom

20 grinds fresh ground cubeb

1 double-crust pie crust recipe of your choice

1 tablespoon milk (optional)

Equipment:

• Large bowl
• Pie plate
• If you choose to use a wash, a pastry brush is useful

1. Preheat your oven to 375 ̊.
2. Combine the first 5 ingredients in the bowl. Toss well to coat.
3. Roll out your pie crust. Line the bottom of the plate with the crust. Fill the pie. Top with the other crust. Crimp and seal.
4. If desired, paint the top of your pie crust with milk. This gives the pie a more pleasing appearance but isn't strictly necessary.
5. Bake about 25 minutes, or until the crust is golden and firm.
6. Cool and serve.

Recipe: Blackberry Pie

My parents grew up about half a block away from each other. The place where they grew up looks pretty much like any other suburb now, and it was just starting to evolve into the suburb it became when my folks' families found their way out there. Back then, it was pretty rural and wild. My dad could run off and play in the swamp (now it's a subdivision – and they wonder why they get mosquitoes!) and he could fish. By the time I came along the woods were rapidly disappearing, but there was one place that still had a bit of the wild left in it: the park across the street from my maternal grandmother's house, now my parents' house. Not only were there all sorts of little groves and such for us kids to play in, there were fresh wild blackberries that us kids could pick and eat.

My dad told me that when he was a kid the whole area was peppered with blackberry bushes, and he could pick them by the bucketful. He would then bring them back to his mother, who would make a pie with whatever he hadn't already eaten. Now, of course, none of that could happen. Kids aren't permitted unstructured play anymore, and they certainly wouldn't be allowed to run around in the woods without six layers of safety equipment. The blackberries still grow in the park, but the whole area gets sprayed for mosquitoes on a regular basis. This makes me, for one, leery of foraging in the park.

Anyway, my parents came to visit the weekend before Father's Day. I happened to see some very nice-looking (if cultivated) blackberries in the store, and they brought to mind my dad's stories of growing up with wild blackberries and pie. I don't know that this pie tasted at all like my grandmother's pie. I did use her pie crust recipe, which I can't publish because I'm not sure of its provenance. I tried not to use too much sugar because I know she didn't like sweet fruit pies (a trait we share, quite frankly, although I didn't know that until she was gone.) I added the nutmeg because there's nutmeg in the pastry and I wanted to match the two. It's a very easy pie to make. Try it sometime, when you want to remember a time before subdivisions when you could still gather blackberries wild.

Blackberry Pie (serves 8; approx. $0.99/serving)

1 double-crust pie crust recipe (you can use frozen if you need to)

1 pint blackberries

½ cup raw sugar

1 teaspoon nutmeg (it's okay to be a little generous, but don't go overboard)

¼ cup cornstarch

Equipment

• Mixing bowl
• Potato masher (I would not use a food processor for this. You want this mixture to be chunky.)
• Rolling pin
• 9" pie plate.
• A baking sheet under the pie plate will make it less likely that the pie crust will boil over and cause a mess in your oven. The choice is yours.

1. Preheat your oven to 375 ̊.
2. Line the bottom of your pie plate with one of the pastry crusts.
3. Combine the remaining ingredients in the mixing bowl and mash with the potato masher. You don't want to see any of the white from the cornstarch.
4. Pour the filling into the pie.
5. Roll out the top crust. Cut a hole in the center of the crust to vent steam.
6. Top the pie with the crust and seal the edges. If you wish, you can paint the top of the pie with milk. I did it; it helps the crust develop a pleasing appearance, but it isn't strictly necessary.
7. Bake 20 – 30 minutes, until the crust is golden and cooked.
8. Serve warm or cold.

Recipe: Not Really a Linzertorte

Recipe Source: Medrich, Alice. Pure Dessert. Artisan, New York, 2007 pp. 204-5

I made this recipe with one goal in mind: using some of the very popular Strawberry Honey Jam I'd made. I guess that means that it was never really going to be a linzertorte, since I think that's traditionally made with raspberry instead of strawberry. I didn't care, though. I did have every intention of following the rest of the recipe pretty carefully, though, and I did. That was kind of the problem with this dish. The dough was sticky – very, very sticky. Unpleasantly sticky, even. Okay, fine. I was able to press the dough into the tart pan without a problem, but I ran into a problem with the lattice top. I followed the instructions, which basically involved making long lines of this very sticky dough and weaving these strips of dough into a lattice. The dough fell apart, but I persevered and carefully re-formed the ropes. Great – a lattice appeared. Then I followed the direction to freeze the lattice until ready to use. I didn't have parchment paper, but I've never had trouble getting anything off the surface I did use – until now.

I could have cursed and swore, or I could have carefully started again. What I did was to make a crumble topping instead, crumbling the bits of dough over the top of the preserves. This worked out quite well. It didn't look like a linzertorte, but it looked deliberate, not like a hastily-conceived solution. I did double the amount of preserves, because the amount in the pie looked insufficient when I spread it out. I also altered the proportions of spice in the crust. The resulting dessert went over remarkably well.

Not Really a Linzertorte (serves 10; approx. $0.36/serving)

3 ¾ ounces almonds

4 ½ ounces flour

¾ cup sugar

¼ teaspoon salt

1 teaspoons ground cinnamon

1 teaspoon ground cloves

11 tablespoons butter, cut into chunks

1 egg yolk

Grated zest of ½ lemon

Grated zest of ½ orange

¼ teaspoon almond extract

1 1/3 cups raspberry preserves

Equipment:

• Food processor
• 9 1/2 " fluted tart pan with removable bottom
• Foil

1. Combine the almonds, flour, sugar, salt and spices in the food processor. Process until the almonds are finely ground.
2. Add the butter, egg yolk, zests and extract. Pulse until blended.
3. Preheat your oven to 350 ̊.
4. Grease up your tart pan with your lubricant of choice – I like cooking spray. Be generous.
5. Press about half the dough into the bottom of the tart pan and up the sides.
6. Spread the preserves over the bottom of the pan, making sure that they are evenly spread.
7. Crumble the remaining dough over the top of the preserves.
8. Bake 30 minutes.
9. Tent loosely with foil and bake another 5 – 10 minutes.
10. Cool completely.