Mammee Apple and Almond Tart

Encouraged by a successful pineapple coconut tart, I thought I might try another recipe from Sophie's tarts book (1). With pineapple and coconut as its main ingredients, that recipe was rather tropical to begin with. This time, I thought would use one of Sophie's more traditional recipes, but with local fruit and local flavors.

From Marie Denise's stand at the market in Basse Terre, I purchased a large abricot pays, or mammee apple (2). Abricot pays translates simply as 'local apricot.' It is almost always comic when comparing the 'original' fruit and its local namesake since there never seems to be much in common - one characteristic at most. The mammee apple is round and somewhat larger than a grapefruit. The skin is tan to dark brown in color, dry and hard. It peels off easily with a knife to reveal a beautiful deep orange flesh.

The color is similar to an abricot...or to a mango, or to acorn squash. The flesh must be cut away from the large round pit, a wet and messy procedure that recalls emptying a pumpkin of its seeds. The pit fits nicely in the palm of the hand like a ball of thin string pressed tightly together with great force. Cut into small pieces, the glistening fruit resembles some unknown precious stone.


The fruit smells curiously like royal jelly. It has no particular taste. But it slides slippery soft and sweet down the throat.

I decided to use Sophie's recipe for pear and almond tart (tarte aux poires et aux amandes). Two mammee apples and rum replace the can of pears in syrup and the pear liqueur.

Ingredients:
1 shortcrust pastry
2 mammee apples
100g crushed almonds
100g softened salted butter, cut into small cubes
1 egg
20g slivered almonds
2cl rum

1. Preheat the oven to 180°C. Roll out the shortcrust pastry over the tart pan. Gently press the pastry into the bottom and sides of the tart pan. Set aside in the refrigerator.

2. Peel the mammee apples. Cut the flesh away from the pit. Cut the flesh into thin slices.

3. In a medium-sized bowl, mix the sugar, butter cubes, crushed almonds, egg and rum.

4. Spread the crushed almond mixture in the bottom of the tart. Lay the mammee apples slices over the mixture. Sprinkle the top with the slivered almonds

5. Bake for 30 minutes.

I hadn't realized how large the pit was, and had only purchased one mammee apple. So my tart was a bit lacking in fruit. The tart was still edible of course, but the small flavor of the fruit was a bit overwhelmed by the quantity of tart. I am certain that bigger taste could be achieved with more fruit.

When cooked, the fruit wrinkles a bit like a raisin. I didn't find the wrinkles incredibly attractive, and so I would recommend mixing the mammee apples into the almond paste before pouring the entire mixture into the tart pan. I don't believe there is a technical reason behind laying the pear slices on top of the almond paste. And since the deep orange color is quite strong, it would still show up nicely underneath the paste.



(1)
Dudemaine, Sophie. Tartes et Salades de Sophie. Geneva: Éditions Minerva, 2004.



(2) Mammee Apple

Bearing Gifts

Going home means bringing goodies. I abhor tchotchkes. And the only thing worse than spending money to buy a tchotchke must to be gift one to somebody else. Instead, I like bringing food items. As my grandmother used to say, nothing better than something for the stomach. So, in my suitcase:

• two boxes of Cruesli
• one liter of milk
  
• 3 jars of Dame Besson Sauce Créoline
• 5 250g bags of ground Café Chaulet coffee beans
• 1 bottle of Père Labat ginger rum
• 1 box of Caoba Petit Cigarillos (from a trip to the Dominican Republic)
  

Okay, that last item isn't a food item, but its not a tchotke. The sauce, coffee, and rum are all Made in Guadeloupe. The Cruesli and milk is French. I would have included a few more things, but the strike made provisioning difficult.

I imagine that all of these items are available in New York. Surely not all in the same place. And not likely at the local bodega. But, the wonder of New York places anything and everthing - including obscure products from a small French state in the Caribbean - at one's fingertips. Still, I always travel bearing gifts. Its a particular joy to travel with a suitcase full of gifts, in anticipation of the loved ones who will receive them.

Eating Well

As I mentioned in a previous post, our local boulangerie in Trois-Rivières makes an excellent baguette. Here, the baguette is consistently good. The only stipulation is that you must clearly ask for a baguette that is 'bien cuite,' or well cooked, since some customers apparently like their baguette on the soft side (why, I haven't the foggiest). Today's baguette was absolutely marvelous, having been bought while still warm. It was the perfect color, the perfect crustiness, a triumph, I think.


Above, the triumphant baguette. Below, a detail.


Otherwise, we stopped by the market in Basse Terre. We haven't been there in a long time, and so also had to stop by Marcellia's stand to restock on rum. M. chose a red currant punch, which is, along with coconut punch, the traditional punch of the season. Technically, the red currant punch is not exactly a true punch since it is not a masceration of red current berries, but a mixture of red currant syrup plus rum. M. also picked up two bottles of shrub to send to family in France for Christmas. Shrub is rum infused with the peel of an orange (or tangerine, or clementine) plus a good amount of sugar. Beyond these two main components, other ingredients may be added according to personal tastes, vanilla and cinnamon being the most popular.


The more I dine in other people's homes, the more I realize that everybody 'makes' their own alcohol. Its not just people who are from Guadeloupe, or have Antillais roots, but even recent expats. M.'s got a little booklet of traditional creole recipes, including one for shrub. It sounds pretty delicious, and I've convinced him that we ought to try our hand at making our own.