Below:
Banana Cream Tart
Fresh Fruit Tart
Tarte Bourdaloue
I especially enjoyed the last one since I got to poach pears! On my 21st birthday Alex and I went to dinner in Seattle and for dessert had a poached whole orange, it had been poached in simple syrup for 24 hours, so even the peel was edible. It was amazing, and has stuck out as one of the more interesting desserts I've ever had. We poached pears, which took about an hour. Essentially, you can poach in any sugar solution (we used wine and sugar) so that the concentration of sugar in the solution in greater than in the fruit. As it simmers, sugar penetrates the fruit, and water passes out, resulting in tenderization. Now I want to poach everything...rum poached pears perhaps?
Tomorrow we're making Tarte Alsacienne, a Baked fruit tart, vanilla crescents, and ginger snaps. Which means I finally have something to share! And that will travel well in the ridiculous heat!
Yesterday, while leaving I encountered a strange elevator situation (not uncommon). I had walked through the career center to ask a question, and ended up having to take an elevator (the building is four whole floors). When the doors opened I was faced with two twenty-something girls who quite resembled models (I don't think they were students). A blonde in the back was teetering on the backs of her 5-inch gold stilettos, wearing a sheer while tank-dress that on her looked very "modern greek goddess," but on anyone else would look awkward. She sighed shaking her cell phone, and proclaimed in her chic french accent "what is this? Why do I not have reception in this stupid elevator?" Next to her was a brunette who looked as though despite the 90+ degree weather that she had just stepped out of a salon. Equally as glamorous she appeared cool, despite her skin tight black jeans. As I stepped in she regarded me with bored disinterest, a look model types seem to be required to master. In between them a maintenance crew member stood dwarfed by these women, he looked up at me and with a knowing smile rolled his eyes at our fellow elevator mates. I found it extremely amusing that in this elevator I felt more of a connection to this man, than the two girls who were likely within 5 years of my age. I wanted to know why they were there, and why I've seen more like them wandering the halls. But I couldn't come up with a way to ask that would result in an answer in the less-than-a-minute ride as well as not sounding awkward..."What are you doing here?" It's very strange indeed.
In other culinary news I have a new obsession in the form of an ethnic market: Kalustyans. They have shelves across entire walls stacked with hard to find and staple spices, their own hot sauces and a smattering of other boutique-food items. The best part is the dried fruit canisters at the front, with everything from dried pineapples to less normal dried persimmons (which are amazing!). I have a special liking for anywhere that allows me to make a DIY trail mix. Though the shop is geared towards Indian food, which prompted a self promise to cook Indian food in the near future, they also have other items. I picked up blackcurrant jam and greek honey (yes, I know, I should eat local honey), and am now addicted. Perhaps its just this brand, but I would argue it tastes much better!
Last (whew, long post!). My room is finished!
Here's some pictuers!!
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