Playing Catch up

The gluten free quiche I made nearly a month ago was a delight. I was so surprised by the flakiness of the crust and the fact that the tapioca starch and whatnot that made the gluten free flour was so delicious, rather than overly dense and too powerfully flavored.

Tuesday I was asked to make a vegan pie for work so I made this incredible creation:

This, my friends, is a vegan, gluten free pear frangipane tart.

It is to this day, my favorite creation and I look forward to making many different versions of it in the future. 

Essentially, it is an almond crust with a beautiful almond custard or frangipane topped with tender, sweet barlett or bosc pears. I kinda press the pears into the custard then layer them until they show above the custard, once baked I lightly coat it in Apricot jam. Just enough jam for a finishing glaze. 

The crust is crunchy and nutty, the custard leaves the most wonderful sensation on your tongue and the moist, thick pears create a clean break from the sweet almond. 

Of course, as I am not a vegan, I would totally recommend for those of you less veganly inclined, to top it with handmade whipped cream. It is plenty delicious without it, but man. WHIPPED CREAM!

When you willingly follow the wolf into his den...

That most profound of sensations, when one finds oneself holding the tail of the wolf as it calmly sashays into his den full of bones and flowers. Flowers once in the hair of sweet-faced innocent girls trusting his bold eyes and sure jaw. What is one little adventure to the den? It can only be so painful since we know what to expect. Yet…somehow, it is still such a painful sting. He lays down on the cool stone floor and with his brown eyes, implores you to be seated, which you cautiously do. He slowly places his head onto your lap and you cradle it, running your fingers tenderly through his coarse, earthy hair. You stroke the face and jaw of this powerful creature, so innocent and prone in your arms. He has lowered himself into YOUR lap, YOUR caring hands, YOU alone seem to be his surrender. You bask in the idea that this vicious wolf that so many fear and warn you of has decided to come to peace in you. Oh, that cunning, pitiful wolf. He roams and howls with lonely abandon, he feels it truly, but he will never change it. He is bred to wander and devour the happy and innocent.

Now that he seems to be more vulnerable than ever before, you relax and begin to dream of the beauty the wolf could see through your eyes and you through his. The wooded trails, the mountain tracks, the cool streams and blue skies, you drift. You steep yourself in the bliss of what could be, feeling special, feeling unique. You close your eyes and relax onto his warm strong neck, scented with woods and cedar…

…before you know it, he opens his mouth and you fall into the gleaming jaws and deep empty beyond. He has demolished you and left your flower crown and ribbons on the floor of his cave. Just one more lassie among the many. Tricked, wooed, betrayed.