I had never seen rhubarb in person until I moved to New York, but let’s just say it was love at first sight. Super tart and brightly colored, this is the sort of thing my springtime dessert dreams are made of—strawberries strictly optional.
Now, I have no real reason to make pie this spring, but that doesn’t mean I’m skipping rhubarb season. Ohhh no. As soon as I spied a pile of hot pink stalks at the market a few weeks ago, I grabbed more than I probably needed and promptly went home to make this tart.
I love tarts like this one. They’re so uncomplicated. So unfussy and uncluttered. So rustic. So classy. So freakin’ easy.
Regarding the crust, you can follow my lead by making your own flaky, buttery rough puff, or make it easy and use thawed frozen puff pastry. Don’t have European butter in this pandemic? Neither do I! Use whatever you have.
The filling couldn’t be simpler. Rhubarb stalks are sliced into thin pieces, arranged on the pastry in whatever fashion makes you happy, sprinkled with sugar and dotted with butter. Bake the tart until the crust is golden and the rhubarb is soft, then paint on warm honey for a little extra sweetness and shine. Since this tart doesn’t have any berries to offset the tanginess of the rhubarb, that hint of honey goes a long way.
Where pies are thick and take hours to cool, this tart is so thin that it only needs 45-60 minutes to reach room temperature. The flavor is more tangy than it is sweet, but the flaky crust and a dollop of whipped cream (or ice cream, if you have it) round things out nicely. Also, it’s pretty—pretty delicious!
Need a reason to make a Rhubarb Tart? Well, first of all, we are in a pandemic and you can have whatever dessert you want and anyone who says otherwise is flat wrong. But also, it’s perfect for celebrating literally any day of the week or that you put on real pants or that you didn’t see anyone not wearing a face-covering today.
If you’re slightly less weird than I am and are cooped up with anyone who identifies as a mother, I have it on good authority that this would make a fine Mother’s Day dessert. But really, any old occasion will do.
Rhubarb Tart
makes one tart, about 8 servings
Rough Puff Pastry:*
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon Kosher or sea salt
5 ounces (10 tablespoons) unsalted European-style butter, very cold, cut into small pieces
1/4 cup water or milk, very cold
For the tart:
4-5 stalks rhubarb, washed and trimmed
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, very cold, cut into small pieces
2 tablespoons honey, agave or maple syrup
For garnish:
sweetened whipped cream
vanilla ice cream
Make the pastry. In a large mixing bowl, whisk together flour and salt. Use a pastry blender or two forks to cut butter into dry ingredients until the largest pieces are the size of small peas. Pour in cold water or milk and stir with a silicone spatula or wooden spoon until a shaggy dough forms.
Flour a surface and a rolling pin. Turn dough out onto surface, and use your hands to pat it into a rough rectangle. Roll the dough into an 8×10″ rectangle. Fold dough in thirds, and give it one quarter turn. Roll into an 8×10″ rectangle again, fold, and turn. Repeat rolling, folding, and turning until it has been done six times total. Wrap folded dough in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least one hour, or up to 48 hours.
Make the tart. Place an oven rack in the center position. Preheat oven to 400F. Line a rimmed quarter-sheet pan or jelly roll pan with parchment.
Flour a surface and a rolling pin. Unfold dough. Roll dough out to 10×14-inch rectangle. Transfer dough to the prepared pan. Trim any excess overhang. Dock center of the dough with a fork. Refrigerate while you prepare the rhubarb.
Using a large sharp chef’s knife, slice each stalk of rhubarb lengthwise once (or twice, depending on their width), until each long piece is about 1/2-inch wide. Then slice those long pieces into 4-inch lengths.
Arrange rhubarb pieces decoratively over the crust. Scatter sugar over the top and dot with butter. Bake 28-30 minutes, until edges are puffed and golden brown. Large bubbles may form during baking. Just pop them with a fork or sharp knife.
Let tart cool completely in the pan on a rack.
Warm honey (or agave or maple) slightly to loosen—about 10 seconds in the microwave should do it. Use a pastry brush to apply it to the soft rhubarb.
Use parchment to remove tart to a cutting board. Remove parchment. Slice into pieces. Serve immediately with whipped cream or ice cream.
Tart is best eaten the day it’s made as crust will soften dramatically over time. Leftover slices may be layered with wax paper or parchment and stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to four days.
Note:
You may use frozen all-butter puff pastry instead. Thaw according to package directions and begin the recipe at the paragraph that begins “Make the tart.”
It’s almost time for pie. Almost.
I mean, do you see this beautiful thing? Is it brunch food? Is it dessert? I don’t know. I don’t make the rules. I just make the pastry.
And oh, is this a good one. Pear Pastry Braid is super buttery and filled with tender pears that have been tossed with ginger, lemon, and a few tablespoons of sugar. Yum!
Don’t let these glamour shots deceive you–it’s surprisingly easy to make. Simply roll out a sheet of rough puff pastry (or the frozen thawed all-butter stuff), make a bunch of diagonal cuts down both long sides and fill the center with sliced pear filling.
Alternating sides, carefully cover the filling with overlapping strips of dough, producing a braid-like appearance. Give it a brush of egg wash and a sprinkle of sugar, and then let it bake til golden.
Sounds like a lot, but the time from when you start peeling pears to when you pull the finished pastry out of the oven is less than an hour. It can be sliced and served warm too, meaning that you don’t have to plan crazy far in advance (especially if you already have the pastry dough in the fridge). There’s so much planning around food this time of year that it’s kind of nice to have something you can make when the mood strikes or when someone says they’re going to pop by.
You know what else is nice? Eating a slice of sweet, flaky Pear Pastry Braid in your pajamas on a Saturday morning. Or a Saturday night. Or both.
If you’re looking for an easy, elegant late-summer dessert, you’ve come to the right corner of the internet. This Peach Tart, y’all. I can’t get enough.
It’s as beautiful as it is delicious, and much easier than 
Where most 
Fresh peaches are sliced thin and tossed with lemon juice before being arranged over pastry, then sprinkled with a tiny amount of sugar and dotted with butter before baking.
The result is this golden and gorgeous fruit-forward Peach Tart. There’s nothing to mask the flavor of the peaches because this time of year, when they’re at their peak, there’s no need.
When I think back on the Super Bowl parties of my youth (and since I am Texan, there were a lot), I don’t remember who played or much else, except for the food. I’ve said it 
Sometimes when I am bored, I tune out and think about recipes. That said, you won’t be surprised to learn that the idea for these Puff Pastry Pigs in Blankets popped into my head during the last Super Bowl.
These are the sorts of things I think about instead of thinking about things that are actually important. I mean, *someone* has to think about the 
Puff Pastry Pigs in Blankets are exactly what they sound like: classic pigs in blankets (aka cocktail wieners wrapped in yeast dough), made with puff pastry. Miniature hotdogs wrapped in flaky, buttery pastry? Sign me up!
These little morsels are super easy to make. Start by rolling out a sheet of puff pastry. I like to use 
Spread a thin layer of dijon mustard over the top and then slice the pastry into strips. Wrap each strip around a cocktail wiener…
…then brush them all with egg wash and sprinkle them with poppyseeds and/or sesame seeds. This is purely for aesthetics, but I like the added texture it provides.
Bake the pigs in blankets for 15 minutes at 450F. The pastry will be gorgeous and golden when they’re done.
Serve ‘em with ketchup and more dijon mustard, or any condiment you like. Make sure to hoard a few for yourself before putting them on your Super Bowl table though because they’ll disappear before you know it, especially if I’m invited.
Palmiers (you might know them as “Elephant Ears”) are a simple pastry made by rolling a thin layer of filling into a sheet of flaky pastry dough. If you’re anything like me, you spent way too much of the early 2000s watching Ina Garten make them on the Food Network.
The possibilities for filling are nearly endless. Since the pastry doesn’t contain any sugar on its own, it works well with both sweet and savory fillings. Basically, if it can be spread or scattered, it can almost certainly be rolled into a palmier. I mean, if you play your cards right, you can start and end your meal with these elegant little pastries.
If you’re looking for a way to spice up your Turkey Day hors d’oeuvres spread, look no further than my Spinach Artichoke Palmiers. They’re filled with a slightly deconstructed version of my mom’s 
As far as dessert goes, I love the idea of serving a plate of Pumpkin Palmiers alongside a pot of coffee. And 
What?! It’s Thanksgiving. It’s a two-dessert day. Three, if you count the 
Pumpkin Palmiers are filled with a very pared down version of 
Roll up the dough and give it a chill.
Slice up the palmiers and give them a quick brush with milk and a sprinkling of coarse sugar.
If you’re making the Spinach Artichoke version, swap the sugar for parmesan–toasty cheese, y’all 🙌🏻🙌🏻
No matter which kind of palmiers you’re making, the baking process is the same. Let them go for ten minutes at 400F. Flip them over, brush them with more milk and sprinkle on more coarse sugar (or cheese). Let them bake for ten more minutes and then, well…
This is the part where you pretend you know things about French pastry.
e2 bakes brooklyn 