Andy was very adamant about what kind of pies he made with his bright lemony crust.
“It’s for fruits,” he said.
“What about custards? Like for a coconut custard,” I said.
“I don’t know.”
“Oh, a shrimp tart! I have a good recipe for one.”
“No.”
“Oh, come on.”
Andy, as noted in Tuesday’s story, could be difficult. Imperious, his wife would say. His silence on the rightfulness of a shrimp tart made with his lemon crust settled the matter as a negative.
Of course, I went home and made him a shrimp tart in a lemon crust. I brought it over to him and it settled the matter as a positive.
The recipe continues to be one of my favorites for its versatility. It’s a light supper that makes you feel chic even in your droopy sweats, and a fine accompaniment to soups, especially something like onion soup. I turned all ambitious once for a party and made it into bite-size tartlets—cut the dough into small circle, press lightly in cupcake molds, fill, and bake. The recipe looks long and involved, but it really isn’t.
Andy’s Lemon Crust
Double the lemon crust recipe to have on hand for dessert pies. Andy, God bless his soul, would have been thrilled. I noted Tuesday that I use a food processor to make all my crusts. Andy didn’t approve of that, either, so this one is made by hand.
2 cups sifted all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon lemon zest
Juice of 1/2 medium lemon
1 tablespoon cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
3/4 cup cold vegetable shortening, or lard, cut into small pieces
3/4 cup iced water
Stir the first six ingredients together in a large bowl. Strew the butter and shortening or lard across the flour mixture. Work it quickly into the flour using just your fingertips until it begins to look mealy.
Begin to add the water a little at a time, until the dough starts to come together. Turn the dough out onto a piece of plastic wrap and gather the ends together, forming the dough into a disk. Wrap up tightly and chill for at least 30 minutes.
Shrimp Tart
Andy’s lemon crust partially baked in an 11” tart pan
Filling:
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 small onion, minced
1 small carrot, peeled and minced
1 pound medium shrimp, with heads off, shelled and cleaned
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1 bay leaf, crumbled
Pinch of ground red pepper
1/2 cup dry white wine
2 1/4 cups heavy cream
3 large eggs
2 large egg yolks
1/2 tablespoon tomato paste
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
Heat the oil and butter in a large skillet over medium heat until the butter is melted. Stir in the onion, carrot, shrimp, thyme, bay leaf, and ground red pepper, and cook, stirring constantly, until the shrimp begins to turn slightly pink, about 3 minutes. Remove the shrimp and set aside.
Stir the wine into the skillet and continue cooking the onion-carrot mixture until the liquid is reduced to a glaze, about 5 minutes. Remove from the heat, scrape into a medium-size bowl, and set aside.
In a food processor fitted with the metal blade, coarsely chop the shrimp. With the motor running, pour 1/4 cup of the cream through the feed tube. Process until smooth, stopping to scrape down the bowl. Press the purée through a fine sieve into a bowl until all the shrimp liquid is released. Reserve the liquid. Stir the shrimp purée into the bowl with the onion-carrot mixture. Set aside.
Return the shrimp liquid to the processor and add the remaining cream, the eggs, egg yolks, and tomato paste. Pulse twice to mix thoroughly. Fold the mixture in with the puréed shrimp mixture and pour the filling into the prepared tart shell.
Bake for 40 to 45 minutes or until a knife inserted in the middle of the tart comes out clean. Let the tart stand for 10 minutes before serving.
If you’re fretting about your holiday pies or just want a great recipe for one, you will do no better than to go on over to Kate McDemott, possibly the best pie baker and teacher around.
What happens when two families with all their memories and foibles blend together around the Thanksgiving Day table? Return next Tuesday to discover what occurred in one hapless union and the sometimes weird concoction that ensued. Hint: it involves a digression into where do all the turkey tails go from the over 48 million birds we’ll be cooking/eating on Thursday.