Two tarts

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I spent this sultry summer afternoon with my friend Jenn and our babies in her kitchen, baking. Well, she did most of the work while I spotted the kids. I had fresh eggs and rhubarb and she had brand new tart pans. The obvious choice was rhubarb tart with custard.

It was hot and the pastry wouldn’t stay chilled. We should have cooked the rhubarb a bit and the custard didn’t thicken the way we wanted. The baby cleaned the floor with her mouth and the toddler had a steady stream of odd demands. The coffee did not seem to be working. We took a break for frozen banana strawberry “ice cream” picnic style on the kitchen floor. It was hot and we were baking. We split a cold beer. We had such a good time and agreed that we were so lucky to be free to spend this day together.

In our minds we made two tarts – this imperfect tart and the superior tart we would have made, if only. That is just what we are like – we never eat something together without discussing how we would make it better next time. Even if we never make it again, move on from tarts to something else (because we can be fickle), that perfect tart comes together in our minds and we are wholly satisfied.

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