Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Because I'm embarrassingly proud of the things I bake that actually turn out, I needed to post a picture of the butter tarts I made to take to a BBQ we were invited to last weekend.
It was risky - I've never made butter tarts before and I waited until the afternoon of the shin dig to start baking - but they turned out just fine.
You see, historically "event baking" hasn't always worked out too well for me (hard cookie-like cakes, runny pecan pies, biscotti with plastic spatula bits) - a fact My Beloved never seems to tire of reminding me. But this time things went in my favour and I pulled tart after near-perfect tart from the oven in a glorious haze of sugar-coated triumph.
I was practically giddy. So much so that I ate a half a scalding tart to see if they tasted as good as they looked.
And oh, they did.
We took more than necessary to the neighbours and gave some away to the in-laws the next day because they were simply too dangerous to keep in the house. We'd polished off the remaining four by Monday night.
I miss them.