Maggie Barrett's Crostata

Now that our move is imminent, that little monster inside me has reared its head, a little monster that spends its days reminding me to get rid of that old trash can Before We Move and to sell the dingy bike on the back patio Before We Move and to use up the almost-full bag of flax seeds Before We Move and to call every utility company I've ever known Before We Move and to start collecting boxes off the streets Before We Move. This little monster keeps me up at night and has Ben shooting me sideways looks ("what was I thinking? Don't we still have two whole weeks?").

It's just, I suppose, that I find moving to be such a disconcerting event, full of potholes where depression lurks, and never, ever predictable.

So I do my best to manage things, to keep myself afloat with tasks and errands and to-do lists. That way I can't, even for a moment, stop and contemplate that sickening feeling when you turn around in your living room just before the movers come and realize that your entire life can be summed up by a stack of boxes, a quilt-wrapped sofa (that you don't even like, for crying out loud, but after the move bleeds you dry, who's going to have money to buy a new one?), and a few dust bunnies. Even worse than that is the sensation you have after the movers have gone and you're alone in the new place and you don't yet know that the doors swing out, not in, so you stub your toe and it hurts, and the light falls on the parquet differently than it did in the old place and it's so quiet that you can hear people on the street seven floors below as they walk their dog and suddenly you're wracked with sobs because that place that you just left, that place that was mouse-ridden and dark and leaky and loud (so, so loud)? That place was home. And this place most definitely isn't.

Hoo hoo hee hee. Just typing all that made me a little dizzy.

So, as I was saying, I try to manage things, prepare myself, feel as much the captain of my own ship as is humanly possible and that includes an attempt to use up all the things in my kitchen cupboards. Because is there anything more annoying than being confronted with a half-bag of all-purpose flour when you're packing up and there are boxes filled with pots and dishes and forks, and then one box half-filled with a jar of honey, some cans of tuna and that packet of Italian cake leavening that you can't seem to throw away and that has now lived in exactly four different apartments in this city? Your frugality keeps you from throwing the flour out, but the practical you refuses to pay people to schlep half-empty bags of baking goods to an outer borough. No sir.

You therefore spend the weeks before you move strategizing on how to use up all the pantry goods before that fateful date. That this might add to your hysteria seems an afterthought. After all, you are being efficient and clever. And those are the hallmarks of a successful mover, are they not?

Last night, I used up my all-purpose flour, the remaining half-jar of homemade ginger-orange marmalade given to me as a gift, and the rest of my homemade butter to make crostata, using Maggie Barrett's recipe printed in The New York Times last fall. (The marmalade only covered a quarter of the tart, so I used some cherry jam for the rest.) Maggie learned her crostata in Tuscany, while I've been making a different, Marchigianian version since the beginning of time, taught to me at age six or seven by Carla, the daughter of a neighbor in my grandfather's village and the resident crostata expert, and recreated approximately 900 times since then.

Maggie's version is too salty and a little too refined for my tastes. Crostata is, after all, the humblest and most rustic of desserts. Simply a soft dough covered in homemade jam and a lattice top (or, in this case, an approximation of streusel, since the dough was too soft to roll out last night) and baked until golden and fragrant, it should be light enough to be eaten for breakfast and humble enough to nibble with a cup of tea in the afternoon.

This version was a little too heavy for my taste, but I'll be totally honest now: that doesn't matter a whit. Not today. Not when I'm feeling triumphant about my ever-emptying pantry and Ben has crostata to keep him quiet when I come home with yet another thing we absolutely have to do Before We Move. Which reminds me, does anyone have a recipe that will use up half a bag of flax seeds, some rye flour, five tablespoons of cornmeal and a half a bottle of cane syrup?

Crostata
Serves 8

9 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/2 cup sugar
1 large egg
1 large egg yolk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Finely grated zest of 1 lemon
2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for rolling dough
1 teaspoon salt (this is too much, I'd use half a teaspoon at most)
2 teaspoons baking powder
14 ounces apricot, raspberry or other jam

1. Beat together butter and sugar until well-combined. Mix in the egg, egg yolk, vanilla and lemon zest, then add the flour, salt and the baking powder. Mix at medium speed just until the mixture begins to clump. Press the dough into a ball by hand, wrap in plastic and refrigerate at least 1 hour or overnight.

2. Remove the dough from the refrigerator and allow to warm slightly. Press teh dough into the botto and sides of a removable bottom tart pan, patting it until smooth and firm. Fill the crust with jam, spreading it evenly.

3. On a lightly floured surface, roll or pat out the remaining dough. Cut the dough into narrow strips and place them in a lattice pattern on the crostata, or break off pieces of the flattened dough to scatter haphazardly on the crostata.

4. Bake until the pastry is golden brown, 20 to 25 minutes. Let cool for 20 minutes before serving. Serve at room temperature.

Comments

[deb]

Too bad it's not bread-baking weather, because with flax, rye, cane syrup and cornmeal, you'd be set. I don't admire your endless to-do list but I can't wait to see what you cook with all of your odds and ends!

[ann]

make sure you take some time to relax amidst all this chaos! it'll help you stay sane. When we moved I actually went out and got my haircut on moving day b/c I just needed to do something that didn't involve boxes, swiffers and many, many flights of stairs.
Like Deb, I can't wait to see what you whip up with those odds and ends. Cornmeal crusted pies are always nice!

[Lydia]

I see that the "new home" move/rearrange/redecorate thing has taken over your blog, too -- I love the new look! And just think...for every jar you empty and every pantry item you use up before you move, you get to buy something brand new for your new pantry!

[aileen]

Too cute. You are far better at this moving thing than me. I may have similar goals, but I never get around to using it up. Instead, I get to my new place, start unpacking those half-used bags of pantry items, imagine all the terrible places in which the moving boxes could have been stored en route, and toss them out anyways. I'm looking forward to seeing all the fun things that can emerge from the pantry when one properly carries out a Before You Move plan of action.

[Leah]

Moving is the absolute single most worst thing ever in all of the universe. Just thinking about it sends shivers of panicky terror through me. I start out with grandiose moving plans and then always, at the last minute, end up shoving things in boxes and suitcases and (embarrassingly) garbage bags in last-minute fueled-by-adrenaline efforts to just GET IT DONE. Only now moving doesn't seem quite so bad because a) I'm not alone in my panicky-ness! and b) it's also terrifically funny and charming, at least when written about by one Miss Luisa.

Best of luck to you and Ben in your move and new home. Now, if only we had *your* crostata recipe. Sigh.

[Ian]

Any chance of getting your crostata recipe?

As for the moving anxieties, one way to conquer them is always to invite friends over to help unpack things. That way, it's not an occasion for despair, it's a party :-)

And besides, us Queensites are nice folk. Before you know it, you'll be One Of Us.

[Heath]

Hmmm, so this is Maggie Barrett's recipe? I was hoping it was yours.

Good luck with the move! (And make a loaf of bread with the weird odds and ends - it won't get rid of the REST of the corn syrup, but it will some of it - and all the meal-y/flour-y things will disappear into it in a satisfying manner.)

[libitina]

I just stopped by your blog for the first time, so I have no idea whether you have craft inclinations as well as cooking ones, but I once used up a huge bag of flax seeds making book snakes (URL put into the URL blank, wherever that shows up in the finished comment).

Meanwhile - good luck.

[radish]

The picture looks delicious - sorry to hear this wasn't a favorite for you. I remember moving a few months ago - it was an annoyance to say the least! You'll be done with it soon though!

[Jessika]

You'll get through it, the moving. I moved 8 times in 7 years (throughout school and getting first REAL job and settling into my 2nd and moving for that one), so I had a case of moving psychosis after my last move (done with movers - I packed, they moved). The best ever spent money, closely followed by what I spent for a moveable a/c. ANyway, you'll settle in. I've lived in my place now for five years and love it. It is similar to a co-op in terms of ownership. I did as you before I moved, ate out the fridge, the pantry and the freezer. You can come up with strange varieties. For the rye flour: pan cakes on white flour with addition of rye flour served with a reduced raspberry cane syrup sauce.
About the settling. A relative asked if I wasn't going to do this or that to the place and i said that no I'm going to just "talk" to the place for a while so that we come into agreement. She looked at me as if I was nuts (maybe I am?!). Anyway, a year into living here I began some repairs, especially on the flooring that i replaced with hardwood througout. Me "and the apartment" had decided it was the best thing, that and the fast that the old flooring sucked ;).

[Lia]

Wow Luisa, it's nice to know I'm not the only one who does this kind of crazy stuff. I too was on a mission to use up all my pantry items before my move in May and for some reason, all that unnecessary cooking helped keep my mind off all the other stuff I should have doing (such as packing). But there really is something so satisfying and fulfilling about starting off with an empty fridge in a new place (and knowing you used up all that old stuff from the last one!). Good luck with the weeks ahead, you'll need it. Moving sucks! :(

[Tea]

I have to admit I lugged the damn flax seeds with me on my most recent move--and I still haven't figured out what to do with them!

Your post elicited a number of sympathetic sighs and empathetic chuckles from me. Too true, too true, and you describe it so well. This is the hard part, but soon it will come to an end and the exciting process of new discovery will begin. Hang in there!

[Tammy]

Would you be willing to share your Marchigiano recipe with a Marchigiana?

Good luck with the move. Your description is so bittersweet.

[Mercedes]

1. You're doing so much better than I would- there was the time I moved and shipped boxes of pantry supplies across country. My boyfriend still teases me about shipping a half-full box of cereal.
2. Boxes- the wine store will give them away.
3. Flax seed + rye + cornmeal = multigrain bread!
4. Dare you tantalize us without a recipe for your 900 times tested crostata recipe?!?!

[Tony]

Boxes:

Go to a couple of liquor/wine stores and ask them to save you some. They are sturdy boxes and a good size.

[Luisa]

Deb - it might just have to BECOME bread-baking weather ;)

Ann - that's a good point. I actually have a facial booked for the day before and I keep thinking about canceling and then I don't. Wheee!

Lydia - I'm glad you like it. And I love fresh, new groceries! What fun. Plus that means I get to amble aimlessly around my new grocery stores, which is ALWAYS a good time.

Aileen - well, stay tuned. I think the newspaper recipes might be taking a back seat to the Concoctions from Luisa's Pantry this week.

Leah - you are too sweet. And I think you're right - moving alone sucks way more than moving together. And I'm going to force myself to take my friends' offers of help up, too.

Ian - I realized after I posted that it wasn't very nice not to post "my" recipe, too. It's coming...

Heath - I think you're right. And see above - recipe en route.

Libitina - thanks for the link! That's a cute idea. I think I'd end up just dumping the seeds into a sock or something, though. :)

Radish - yes! Whenever I get really freaked out, I remind myself that in two weeks, I'll already be all settled. Just keep breathing!

Jessika - mmm, rye pancakes and raspberry syrup, mmm. Just the thing to vanquish my fears.

Lia - you're not alone! I'm glad to hear you do the same things.

Tea - damn flax seeds! Mine are probably long rancid anyway, but still. I'm fixated or something.

Tammy - Thank you! And the recipe is on the way, I promise.

Mercedes - ha! That's a good one. I'm glad I'm not alone in this.

Tony - indeed. And there's a liquor store right next door to us, conveniently.

[Jim]

My wife and I had to move five times in four years at the end of grad school and the beginning of "real" work. We made it a tradition on the last night, after everything had been moved out, to make a big pot of mussels. All it took was a big loaf of bread, some butter, hand-smashed garlic, torn up parsley, a bottle of wine and bread. And one big pot. We ate with our hands and drank the wine out of the bottle. It was fun. But I'm so glad I'm not moving this summer.

[Anne]

Good luck with the move, Luisa! Can't wait to see what you cook up in your new kitchen.

LOVE the link to Pioneer Woman, btw. Thanks for turning me on to her. She's hilarious and her kitchen makes me drool.

[van]

I know your blog from David Lebovitz at his post "Easy Jam Tart". I made this twice within 2 weeks. They were awesome! Thank you very much.