Dewberry and Apple Puff Pastry Tarts

They're not exactly my prettiest dessert ever, but they're simple, dainty, tasty little treats. They're also not overly sweet, which makes them perfect for tea, kids, or just eating whenever. I realize that you might not be able to track down wild Pacific blackberries and rare heirloom apples at the same time, but don't worry - you can tweak this in all kinds of ways in order to customize it to your tastes and the ingredients you have on hand.

As I mentioned above, I'm a HUGE believer in real butter puff pastry. If you're inclined to make your own (good for you), check out this recipe from fellow Canadian (and wildly talented scientist-turned-baked) Janice at Kitchen Heals Soul.  Her site is stuffed with amazing and educational guides to help you become a better baker, not to mention incredible recipes. Janice gave me a few tips to pass on, and they'll help you whether you make your own puff pastry or work with premade:

1. Work with chilled dough.  If it's gooey and melting, you're going to be in trouble.
2. A solid wood rolling pin is a nice touch, as it lets you bash the heck out of the pastry in order to get it rolling out and moving a little.

So what can you do if you want the good stuff but you don't have the time to make it?  I'm sure many a home baking enthusiast has found themselves in this predicament, so let me encourage you to do a bit of research into wholesale bakers wherever you live. There's a decent chance that if you're in a big enough city there's a bakery that will sell real butter puff pastry (frozen) either directly to you or to a retail operation.  As I mentioned above, I bought mine from a local bakery that happens to be available at Whole Foods (as well as directly from their bakery headquarters).  Try looking at organic/high-end grocery stores, or do a bit of googling to find a good pastry/bakery wholesaler in your area.  You might have to go a wee bit further for it, but you get a better product while supporting a local business.  Win win.

Given that I waxed poetic about my personal connection to this dish and it's semi-obscure ingredients, I think it would be silly to try to replicate it exactly. Good blackberries and good semi-sweet apples will make a great tart. I wouldn't personally go with Granny Smiths on their own, as they're simply too sour (especially given the small quantity of added sugar). Any good sweet/tart apple would work, as would a combination of sweet, firm apples and tart ones. Off the top of my head, I think an Ambrosia and a Granny Smith would work nicely together.

That being said, this is a simple concept, and any number of fruit pairings would work very nicely.  Peach and raspberry, black currant and pear - even mango and kiwi.  If you've got something delicious and seasonal to work with, go for it.  This isn't complicated baking, and it's a pretty forgiving concept.

These are designed with the baking novice in mind. Nothing complicated, and pretty tough to mess up.

Some puff pastry is sold pre-rolled, but in general you'll need to thaw it and roll it out into a nice even sheet. Use gentle, even pressure, make sure it doesn't get too warm, and try not to over-work it. Keep some flour on hand to dust your rolling pin and the work surface. I folded up the corners of my little squares to create little fruit-wells in the center and... well, it kind of worked. To be honest, I wasn't overly concerned with appearances here. If you're looking for a more polished presentation, trying folding the edges up and pressing them together (sort of like a hamentaschen), or pinch the bundles together at the top. Just make sure you don't completely encapsulate the filling, as it will come spilling out through any crack and make a big mess.

The filling is simple to make, and the details are laid out below. Don't overcook your apples, and make sure to strain out that gorgeous purple juice in order to make the finishing syrup. When it comes to putting that filling into the pastry, less is more. Don't try to put too much into one pastry pocket, as it will spill all over and further diminish any attempts to get the corners of the pastry to stick up (trust me).

The syrup is a must, and don't be concerned by the extra steps - it's really simple. You're just taking those gorgeous, just-cooked fruit juices, adding a bit of sugar, and letting the fresh rosemary infuse. Rosemary and blackberry go together incredibly well, so if you're finding herbs in your dessert a little odd, trust me and give it a shot. You'll notice that very little sugar is used here, and that's intentional. I wanted these to be rich and sweet-tart, not cloying and sugary. That being said, adjust the syrup to your personal tastes, and add sugar as you see fit.

This recipe is part of a series highlighting the flavour and versatility of little-known and underappreciated apple varieties.

There has been a growing interest in rediscovering forgotten heirloom apples, as well as a resurgent interest in growing and marketing new hybrid varieties. Apples were once once of the most important and varied fruits in both North America and Europe, but large-scale commercialization favoured a handful of attractive, easy-to-grow apples with long shelf lives.  But the longest lasting apples aren't necessarily the best or most interesting ones, and chefs, farmers, and apple enthusiasts around the world are working to give some of these forgotten apples the exposure they deserve. This little feature is my contribution to that worthy cause.

This recipe features an English heirloom apple called Ashmead's Kernel.  This spectacular little apple, pictured below, has become one of my absolute favourite apple varieties.  They've got a marvelous and highly fragrant sweet/tart flavour with a good crunch.  So the $64K questions is: If they're so good, why aren't they on store shelves everywhere?  In essence, they're a perfect example of how our taste in apples shifted away from... well, taste.  They're small, which means they're more work to peel or core, making them less attractive for baking or cooking with.  And speaking of attractive, while they have a beautiful crisp white flesh (as you can see below), they're not particularly attractive on the outside - at least by contemporary apple standards.  Yellow and/or green apples are already a tough sell in grocery stores, and Ashmead's Kernel has the added problem of being a russet apple, meaning that its skin is either entirely or partly mottled brown.  While russet skin has absolutely no bearing on flavour, it's a trait that has become rather unappealing to modern apple consumers.   I can't stress enough how much I'd like to see this change, as there are some truly spectacular apples out there with dull or mottled looking skins, and they're languishing out of the spotlight.  To top it all off, the trees themselves are somewhat more susceptible to bitter pit (a cosmetic and quality-affecting disease caused by low calcium levels) and fire blight (a bacterial infection that affects and can kill plants in the rose family).  These growing factors are found in many apple varieties, and while it doesn't mean that the trees are delicate (after all, they've survived just fine for over 300 years), it does make them less attractive to commercial apple growers.  In essence, Ashmead's Kernel is the polar opposite of a shiny Red Delicious apple, which is big, beautiful, and easy-to-grow, but frankly insipid and mealy.  I think you can guess which one I would choose pretty easily.

This recipe is the first post in the series, so stay tuned for further installments featuring different apples, as they'll be up over the next few weeks.  To see the other recipes and apple varieties being featured, click here.