Potato Kibbeh

I'm trying to up my kibbeh quotient on this site, and given that there are a myriad types of kibbeh that shouldn't be so hard to do. (For a review on kibbeh 101, check out this post.) Though the dumpling-shape type of kibbeh is the most famous, I thought it would be good to share one of the types of kibbeh made in a tray (kibbeh b'il sayniayah). Kibbeh in a tray can be made with meat or in several vegetarian variations including pumpkin, lentil, and potato. Today we're making the potato version, which I've heard referred to as the Middle Eastern equivalent of shepherd's pie, a comparison not undeserved.



Potato kibbeh is basically a mashed potato casserole stuffed with caramelized onions and pine nuts. Meat can be added, but I often leave it out because I like to use the potato kibbeh as a side dish, especially for roast meats. The potatoes are made unique by the addition of traditional kibbeh spices and the use of bulgur, which gives the potatoes a slight nubby texture. It is very important to use the finest grade bulgur (it looks almost as fine as couscous or semolina), you may need to visit a Middle Eastern grocery for that. Potato kibbeh is a remarkably comforting dish, and unlike many kibbeh dishes that can seem delicate, fussy, or heavy with meat, it's one that you want on your table often, especially in these cold dark winter months.



Potato Kibbeh
For some extra luxury, top the dish with pats of butter before baking. Many stores sell a kibbeh spice mix but you can mix your own spices per the instructions below.

1 cup of fine grade bulgur
boiling water
4 medium size potatoes (should equal 3 to 3 1/2 cups cooked mashed potato)
2 tablespoons butter
a splash of milk, cream, or ashta if available
salt
1 teaspoon kibbeh spices or baharat

2 large onions, halved and thinly sliced
1 teaspoon sugar
1/4 cup pine nuts
1 tablespoon butter
1/2 lb ground beef or lamb (optional)

For filling:
1. Heat some olive oil in a saute pan, add the onions and a pinch of salt and saute over medium-low heat. Cook they onions until they are well caramelized, this could take as long as 45 minutes. Add the sugar towards the end to enhance the onions' sweetness. Set aside.
2. If using, saute the ground meat in the pan until well-browned, add to the onions.
3. Saute the pine nuts in the butter until golden brown (watch them carefully). Add the pine nuts to the onion mixture.

For outer shell:
1. Peel and cube potatoes and set to boil in salted water until tender. Meanwhile, pour boiling water over blgur until it is just saturated (you don't want the bulgur to be drowning). Let bulgur sit for 10 minutes, then fluff with a fork, if it still feels dry you can add a bit more boiling water.
2. Drain the potatoes well and put them back in the pot. Add the butter, salt and spices and mash until roughly mashed. Add the bulgur (drained of any excess liquid) and mix together. Gradually add the milk/cream until the texture is like that of firm mashed potatoes.

Bake:
1. Preheat oven the 350 F. Spread half the potato mixture evenly in an 8x8 inch baking dish. Spread the onion mixture evenly over top. Spread the remaining potato mixture over top. Use a wet spatula to press out the potato mixture evenly. If desired, use a sharp damp knife the score a decorative cross watch pattern on the surface. Place the dish in the oven and bake until warmed through and just a tiny bit golden on the top, about 20 minutes. Serve immediately.

Lebanese Style Stuffed Squash (Koosa Mehshi)

My uncle tells this fantastic story of an acquaintance of his, a lady from Louisiana but of Lebanese descent. She was famous for her kibbeh, and was asked one time for her recipe. "Well, first," she explained, "you have to take off all your gold," she said gesturing to her fingers and wrist covered in gold baubles. Maybe you had to be there, but I love that story, how it's so Lebanese and so Southern at the same time.

In the early 1900's there was a wave of Lebanese immigrants who settled in the U.S., mainly in the South. Many were of Christian descent, and I can't help but think they found something of kindred spirits in the South, the traditional seasonal cooking, the emphasis on etiquette, gentility, and appearance. The Southern Foodways Alliance has done a nice job of collecting some of their stories here.



They also brought with them their foods, primarily kibbeh and pita and stuffed vegetables. Stuffed vegetables can be made with both vegetarian and meat stuffings, and is traditionally made with zucchini, eggplant, and bell peppers, though technically any vegetable can be stuffed, including tomatoes, potatoes, and even really fat carrots.

For a festive dinner usually several different types of vegetables are stuffed with meat stuffing and cooked in a simple tomato sauce (though they can also be served in a yogurt sauce). Traditionally, a cook would buy a whole piece of bone-in meat, then dice and grind the meat themselves, and reserve the bones for putting in the pot. Many Levantine meat dishes are made using the bones this way, including grape leaves and stews, and I don't know of a home that doesn't own their own meat grinder. However, these days, it's much easier to just buy ground beef or lamb.

I always thought this was a difficult dish to make, but the coring is actually really easy (so long as you have a good corer) and there's really very little active work time. It's a nice one pot dish, with meat, vegetables, and rice. Serve it with extra rice pilaf on the side for soaking up the sauce.



Lebanese Style Stuffed Squash (Koosa Mehshi)

12-14 small thin zucchini (or small thin eggplant or bell peppers)
1 cup medium grain rice
1/2 lb ground beef or lamb, at least 85% lean
1/4 cup chopped flat leaf parsley
1 sprig mint, leaves finely minced
1/2 teaspoon baharat*
salt, pepper
olive oil
4-5 cups diced tomatoes with their juices, fresh or canned
1 small onion, diced
meat bones (optional)
yogurt and rice pilaf for serving (optional)

1. Using a corer, core the zucchini, being careful not to pierce the outer shell. Discard cores.
2. Mix together the rice, ground meat, parsley, mint, baharat, and season with salt and pepper. Smush together to mix well.
3. Stuff the squash 3/4 full with the meat mixture (no more, the rice needs space to expand!).
4. Heat some olive oil in a large pan. Add the onion and saute briefly, until translucent. Place the bones in the bottom of the pot, if using, then pour the tomatoes over top. Nestle the stuffed squash in the pan, so that they are about 3/4 covered in the liquid. Try to arrange them so that the open ends stick up and the stuffing won't fall out of them. Bring to a simmer, partially cover the pot, and simmer for 40-45 minutes. Turn the squashes half-way through so that they cook evenly. Test the rice for doneness before serving.
5. Serve warm, with rice pilaf and some thick yogurt on the side.

Persian Jeweled Rice

Since we started off the new year with an Iranian stew, I thought it would make sense to continue with a classic Persian rice recipe, shireen polou. Two years ago I posted a photo of Persian rice and several people asked me for the recipe, so it's about time to follow up with another polou recipe.

If you have ever inadvertently burned a pot of rice, then Persian style rice is for you. I'm kidding, but the most delicious part about Persian rice is the delicious golden crust, called tah-dig, that is carefully formed on the bottom of the pan. "Crusty rice," is a technique found all over the world, from Korean bibimbap to northern Indian Biryani to crunchy fried rice. If it were up to me, crunchy rice beats out plain fluffy rice anytime.



The technique for Persian polou is the same whether you are just making plain rice (rice with butter), or a fancier rice stuffed with everything from sour cherries to chicken to pistachios to vegetables. First, you par-boil basmati rice until it is half way done, about 10 minutes. Then you drain the rice and mix with whatever additions you want to add, whether its spices, herbs, meat, or fruits and nuts. Then you melt a lot of butter (or ghee) in the bottom of a heavy bottomed pot. You add a little bit of rice and stir it in to coat in the butter and pat it down on the bottom of the pot. Then you pile in the rest of the rice in a loose conical shape, and poke a few holes in the rice with the handle of a wooden spoon. Sprinkle a bit of water over the top of the rice, wrap the lid of the pot with a towel, and cook on medium-ow heat until a beautiful crust forms on the bottom of the pan.



Now today we're making one of the fancier forms of polou, "shireen polou," or jeweled rice. Traditionally made for weddings, this rice is filled with chicken, pistachios, almonds, barberries or cherries, candied orange peel, and saffron. Though sour cherries are usually used for different dish (albalu polou), I love them and happened to add them on hand instead of barberries. The rice is studded with colors and textures, sweets and savories, all mixed with bits of rice both crunchy and sweet. You'll never want to eat boring old steamed rice again.



Jeweled Rice
You can always play around with different dried fruits and nuts for this dish, and if you don't have candied orange peel a bit of fresh orange zest will do in a pinch. Making polou is a delicate act, if the heat is too low you don't get the crispy crust, and too high and it burns. It may take a bit of practice to get it right, but even the "ugly" versions will be delicious.

6 chicken drumsticks (or 4 chicken breasts)
salt, pepper
2 cups basmati rice
1/2 cup slivered almonds
1/4 cup shelled blanched pistachios
1/2 cup pitted sour cherries (or rehydrated barberries* or dried sour cherries)
1/4 cup golden raisins or diced dried apricots
2 tablespoons finely diced candied orange peel
1/4 teaspoon each allspice, cinnamon, and cumin
1 pinch of saffron mixed with 2 tablespoons hot water
6 tablespoons butter or ghee

1. Sprinkle chicken with salt, pepper. Heat some olive oil in a pot, add the chicken and lightly brown on all sides. Add water to cover chicken, bring to a simmer, and simmer about 45 minutes or until chicken is tender and falling of the bone. Remove chicken to cool and set aside broth.
2. Bring broth to boil, if there isn't much broth add some extra water so that there is at least around 5 cups liquid. The rice should be able to cook freely in the liquid, bouncing around the pot. Add the rice to the boiling broth and let the rice cook 10 minutes, it will be under-done. Drain rice immediately and place in a bowl.
3. Meanwhile pull apart the cooled chicken, discarding skin and bone.
4. Season the rice with salt and add the allspice, cinnamon, cumin, and saffron, stirring well to mix. Fold in the nuts, fruits, and chicken, folding gently to combine.
5. Melt the butter over medium-low heat in the bottom of a deep heavy pot. Scoop out about 1/2 cup of the rice (preferably without any big chunks of chicken or fruit or anything), and add it to the pan, mixing with the butter. Pat this buttery rice layer down to cover the bottom of the pan. Pile in the remaining rice in a loose conical shape. Poke a few holes in the cone with the handle of a wooden spoon. Sprinkle 2-3 tablespoons of water over the rice. Wrap the pot lid in a dish towel, tying it at the top with rubber band. Cover the pan with the lid and let cook undisturbed for 35-45 minutes. Start checking the rice after about 30 minutes, you want the rice at the bottom to be golden brown but not the burn.
6. When the rice is done, remove from the heat and immediately dunk the bottom of the pan in a sink of cold water (this will help the crusty rice release). Wait a moment, then carefully invert the rice onto a platter. If the rice sticks to the pan (as mine always does), just crumble the crusty bits decoratively over the top. Serve immediately, with some plain thick yogurt on the side.

*Barberries and jarred sour cherries are available at your local Middle Eastern or Persian grocery store.

Iranian Herb Stew for the New Year

The longer I stay away from this space, the harder it seems to return. Not because I've stopped cooking or because I've stopped writing, but because I've stopped doing this thing called blogging, which turns out to be a whole different animal altogether. But I must return, just like I have to keep cooking, because there's always a new recipe to try, because people are hungry, because I like what this space, this blog, brings to my life.

It probably didn't help that our fridge broke in December, with horrible rattling sounds and leaking water. And what should have been an easy fix, because we rent from an absentee landlord, became a nearly twenty-day saga of fridge-less-ness. One can only live off their favorite local pizza place for so long, but thankfully it was fixed just in time to host our annual Christmas party (latkes with caviar, mini pulled pork sandwiches, stuffed grape leaves).



In better news, I received a tagine for Christmas (!!!!!), and can't wait to delve into more Moroccan recipes in the future, and I also received a macaron cookbook which I can't wait to try out.

Probably the best thing we've discovered in the last month are the kifflie cookies Paul made many batches of this holiday. But it seems rather cruel to offer a cookie recipe in January. Instead, we've made ghormeh sabzi, a delicious Iranian stew made of all the green things you can think of. And green things are virtuous, aren't they?

I was introduced to this dish many years ago by Iranian friends of mine, who always swore by it's deliciousness, and though I'd eaten their version I'd never tried it myself. I was surprised to find that other than a lot of chopping, this stew of complex flavors was relatively easy to make. You chop up all the green things you can get your hands on, lots of spinach, but also leeks, parsley, cilantro, dill, and scallions. You cook it with lamb and kidney beans (probably the best use of red kidney beans I've ever come across), for hours until it becomes not unlike a dark green sludge. It's not the prettiest thing, but it's delicious. And if you're feeling too virtuous, you can top your whole bowl with a traditional sizzling of melted clarified butter.



The recipe does call for one special ingredient: dried limes (also called omani limes, or noumi basra). The dried lime is such an essential flavor in this stew that I would say you really can't make the dish without it. It just won't taste right. But you can get dried limes from most Middle Eastern groceries, or order them online (whole is best, but the powdered form is also acceptable).

Here's to a good start to 2011, and many more recipes to come.



Ghormeh Sabzi (Persian Herb Stew)
Adapted from my friends and a recipe clipped from the Boston Globe long ago. I've heard you can make this using frozen spinach, but I've never tried it myself.

1/2 pound fresh spinach, stemmed and coarsely chopped
1 bunch fresh dill, stemmed and coarsely chopped
1 bunch fresh Italian parsley, stemmed and coarsely chopped
1 bunch fresh cilantro, stemmed and coarsely chopped
4 leeks, thinly sliced
1 bunch scallions, thinly sliced
4 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 pound beef or lamb stew meat, cut into cubes
Salt and black pepper, to taste
1 medium onion, coarsely chopped
1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric
Generous pinch crushed red pepper or Aleppo pepper
1 dried lime or 1 tablespoon dried lime powder (available at Middle Eastern markets)
4 cups water
1 can (15 ounces) red kidney beans, drained and rinsed
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice (optional)

1. In a large flameproof casserole, combine the spinach, dill, parsley, cilantro, leeks, and scallions. Cook, stirring constantly, over high heat until the excess water evaporates. (There is no oil added at this point.)
2. Add 2 tablespoons of the oil. Cook, stirring often, for 15 minutes or until the vegetables start to brown. Remove the pot from the heat. With a rubber spatula, remove the mixture from the pan and transfer to a bowl.
3. Wipe out the pan. Heat the remaining 2 tablespoons oil and when it is hot, add the meat, salt, and pepper. Cook, stirring often, for 10 minutes or until it starts to brown. Add the onions, turmeric, and red pepper. Continue cooking, stirring often, for 8 minutes or until softened.
4. With a knife, poke a hole in the dried lime and add them or the powdered lemon to the pot. Add 3 cups of the water and bring to a boil. Let the mixture bubble gently, partially covered, for 15 minutes.
6. Add the spinach mixture, turn the heat to medium-low, and cook, partially covered, for 1 hour. Add the remaining cup of water if the pan seems dry. Stir in the beans and continue cooking for 30 to 60 minutes or until the meat is tender when pierced with a skewer (total cooking time is 1 1/2 to 2 hours). Remove the dried lime from the pot.
7. Taste the mixture for seasoning. Add more salt, red pepper, or the lemon juice, if you like.

The Difference Between Roasting and Frying

I've been meaning to write this post for a long time, so long in fact, that this recipe has changed since I originally intended to write about it. That's a good thing, meaning that this recipe is a favorite of ours and that it is quality controlled and tested (another way of saying I ate a lot of it). But the thing I've been meaning to write about is the difference between roasting and frying. If you were to ask a Western chef, say Michael Ruhlman, about the difference, he would probably give you a long answer about heat and molecules and fat absorption. But in the most of the world (that is in the 2nd and 3rd worlds), there is one distinction between frying and roasting: money.

The cost of cooking fuel is a major expense in many households and it costs a whole lot more to heat an oven at a consistent temperature than it does to use a relatively small flame to heat a pot of frying oil. And I'm not talking just about poverty here, for middle class families in places like Iraq and Syria, where people have modern ovens and cooking appliances, the oven is still reserved for use sparingly, for special occasions and big cuts of meat, because of the cost associated. And in many places like China and Japan, ovens aren't even a standard part of the kitchen.



I say this mainly because there are several Middle Eastern recipes where I adapt frying to roasting. Frankly, I don't want to wrestle a pot of boiling oil, and roasting is a bit more healthful and easier. In the case of this recipe, it started with a simple preparation for cauliflower. The cauliflower is broken into florets, fried in a shallow pan of oil, and served with a squeeze of lemon and maybe a bit of tahini sauce. It's addictive, in a way you never thought cauliflower could be.

I roast the cauliflower in a pan in the oven, which means you can roast the entire head at once. I originally served the cauliflower with just a drizzling of tahini sauce, then I added a few slivered almonds, then some golden raisins, and so on until I arrived at this salad. It's crunchy and creamy and tart and perfect for winter.



Roast Cauliflowers with Tahini, Almond, and Pomegranate
Don't be surprised if you find you can eat a whole head of roast cauliflower yourself, it's surprisingly addictive. Pine nuts can also be used in place of almonds.

1 large head of cauliflower
olive oil
salt and pepper
1 recipe tahini sauce
1/2 cup golden raisins
1/2 cup slivered almonds
1/2 cup pomegranate seeds
1 cup of chopped parsley and cilantro (mixed)

1. Preheat oven to 410 F. Place head of cauliflower sideways on a large cutting board, and start slicing about 1/2 inch slices across the top. There will be a mess of tiny florets everywhere, that's okay. When you reach the core, slice the sides of the cauliflower in the same manner. Chop any large florets into smaller bits (about 1-2 inch pieces). Discard core.

2. Drizzle olive oil over a large baking sheet. Add all the cauliflower to the baking sheet, drizzle with a bit more olive oil and roll around so that cauliflower is coated in oil. Season well with salt and pepper. Roast cauliflower for 25-35 minutes, until browned in spots and large pieces of cauliflower are tender when poked with a knife.

3. Meanwhile, while cauliflower is roasting, place raisins in a bowl and pour boiling water over the cover. Let sit to plump. Toast almonds in a skillet until lightly browned and fragrant.

4. Transfer cauliflower to a serving bowl. Drain raisins, and add raisins, almonds, and herbs to cauliflower, stirring to mix. Drizzle tahini sauce over top (you may not use all of it). Sprinkle pomegranate seeds over. Serve warm or at room temperature.

A Middle Eastern Thankgiving

A few years ago at Thanksgiving dinner, a friend who knows about this blog, asked me if I thought it would be possible to do a Middle Eastern Thanksgiving. Despite some people's scepticism, I said I actually thought it was a great idea. Middle Eastern cooking makes great use of spices like cinnamon and allspice, and they have numerous recipes for things like pumpkin and kale and nuts.

My goal here was to do things that hemmed closely to the traditional Thanksgiving, as opposed to just throwing some tabbouleh and hummus next to the turkey. The only real challenge was the stuffing (aka dressing), especially given my great love of cornbread dressing. But a rice pilaf was a good substitute.



On other things it was much easier to find a good substitute, like pearl onions with a touch of tamarind and swiss chard with a tahini sauce. For the potato kibbeh, imagine mashed potatoes mixed with caramelized onions and then baked until the top is crackly and crispy. I've been told that people actually prefer the mashed carrots to overly-sweet mashed sweet potatoes.

As for the turkey, it's a completely traditional roasting recipe that we tested out last week. A good rubbing of butter, salt, and pepper, and that's pretty much it. But it came out perfectly, moist breast meat and falling-off the bone thighs. But the gravy, infused with some reduced pomegranate gravy, is what makes it special.

As for dessert, what could be more similar to pecan pie than baklava, or a sweet date tart. I know everyone has their die-hard Thanksgiving traditions, but hopefully this can serve as some food for thought for future meals. After all, roast turkey should be served more than once a year. Happy Thankgiving to you and yours!

Pumpkin Hummus
Olive-Potato Bites

Turkey with Pomegranate Gravy (recipe follows)

Pearl Onions in Tamarind
Swiss Chard with Tahini
Potato Kibbeh in a Tray
Anbari Rice Pilaf
Mashed Carrot Salad

Flaky Sesame Rolls

Custard Baklava or Regular Baklava
Marya's Date Tart

(another good addition: Bulgur Salad with Walnuts and Pomegranate)



Turkey with Pomegranate Gravy
Adapted from Gourmet.

For turkey

* 1 (12 to 14 lb) turkey, any quills removed
* turkey neck and giblets reserved for making stock
* 6 tablespoons butter, softened, plus 4 tbl melted butter for basting
* 1 tablespoon salt
* 1 1/2 teaspoons black pepper
* 1 onion, quartered
* 4 fresh thyme sprigs

For gravy

* 16 oz bottled pomegranate juice
* pan juices (and roasting pan) from turkey
* about 3 cups hot turkey giblet stock
* 1 cup water
* 4 tablespoons all-purpose flour

1. For stock: place neck and giblets (not liver) in a saucepan with one small chopped onion, one clove onion, one chopped carrot, and some salt, pepper and any herbs you have on hand. Cover with water and set to very low simmer for 2-3 hours, or until you're ready to make the gravy.

2. For pomegranate: Place pomegranate juice in a saucepan and simmer until reduced to 2/3 to 1/2 a cup. Set aside.

3. Preheat oven to 350 F. Rinse and pat dry turkey. From the neck, gently run fingers under skin of turkey to loosen the skin all over breast and thighs. Grabbing bits of softened butter with your fingers, work the butter under the skin all over breast and thighs to cover them with butter. Rub turkey outside all over with salt and pepper. Stuff cavity with onion and thyme and place on roasting rack in roasting pan.

4. Place in oven and bake, basting with melted butter every 20-30 minutes, until turkey is golden brown and thermometer inserted into fleshy part of a thigh (do not touch bone) registers 170°F, 2 1/2 to 3 hours. (If turkey is browning too quickly, tent with foil. If bottom of pan looks like it's burning, add some water to pan juices.)

5. Remove turkey from oven, tilting turkey so any juice in cavity run into pan. Move turkey to carving board and tent with foil. Let rest 30 minutes (this temp will rise to 180 F).

6. Meanwhile, pour off any pan juices into a container and place in the fridge. Straddle roasting pan over two burners, add water and cook to deglaze pan, scraping up any brown bits, about 1 minute. Pour liquid through a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl. Add enough turkey stock to pan juices to total 3 cups liquid.

7. Skim 4 tbl of fat off the top of the container you placed in the fridge. Whisk together fat and flour in a heavy saucepan and cook roux over moderately low heat, whisking, until pale golden, 7 to 10 minutes. Add hot stock mixture in a stream, whisking constantly to prevent lumps. Bring to a boil, whisking, and add pomegranate syrup, then reduce heat and simmer, whisking occasionally, until thickened, about 5 minutes.

8. Carve turkey and serve with gravy.

The Month of Eating French

Well, I had a fish tagine recipe all ready to go for you all, but it seems my computer ate it, and then I decided to give up and go to Chicago to eat delicious food at Topolobampo and Blackbird. I'm kidding, but I highly recommend some margaritas the next time your computer goes on the fritz.

Besides, ever since we got back from France I've been on a full-on French cooking kick. First I made pain d'epices (from this recipe), which is deceiving because you expect it to be a sweet and it's really just a bread.


Then there were stuffed poussins with pearl onions and a fabulous cream sauce (adapted from this recipe). Damn, poussins are expensive in the U.S., but they were delectable.


There were two attempts to recreate the fabulous gratin dauphinois we had, trying both Julia Child's and Anthony Bourdain's recipes. Bourdain won, for what it's worth.


And by the time I got around to making a chicken liver pâté, I think Paul was about to call the psych consult. "You don't even like pâté," he said. Luckily, the guests at our party did.

But all this was not before I made, not one, not two, but three tarte tatins. What can I say? Tarte tatins are pretty damn awesome. We made one with pears and cardamom, and two with apples. Despite many people's fear of caramel, tarte tatin is much easier than you'd think, and you don't even have to make a true caramel. Afterward the oven should do the work for you. Even if you aren't in French cooking madness mode, it's worth a try.


(Lentil de Puy Salad with Pomegranate and Fennel)

Tarte Tatin
Though puff pastry is 100% traditional, I confess that I also like to make this with a nice thick pie dough. The crispiness of the pastry stands up nicely to the apples. Can be made with pears, make sure to used firm pears.

5-6 large cooking apples (we used staymans)
juice of 1 lemon
1 ½ cups granulated sugar
4 Tbl unsalted butter
14 ounces puff pastry (or pie crust)

1. Peel and quarter the apples, removing the cores such that each quarter has a flat inner side. Toss the apple quarters in a large bowl with the lemon juice and ½ cup of the sugar. Set aside while you start the caramel, about 30 minutes.

2. In a 9-inch cast-iron skillet melt 4 tablespoons of the butter. Add the remaining 1 cup sugar, mixing with a fork or flat whisk. Cook the mixture over medium-low heat, stirring regularly, for about 15 minutes, or until the mixture has come together in a smooth, bubbly, pale caramel color. Do not let it get too dark.

3. Turn the heat off and carefully add apple quarters, arranging them rounded-side-down in a decorative pattern. Arrange a second layer of apples on top wherever they fit, closely packed. I usually cut up any larger ones for smaller pieces in the second layer.

4. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit.

5. Cook the apples over medium-low heat for about 20 minutes, occasionally spooning the bubbling caramel liquid over them. Press them down gently with the back of a spoon — don’t worry if they shift a bit in the liquid; just move them back to where they were. Shift the pan as necessary so that the apples cook evenly. They are ready when the liquid in the pan has turned to a thick, amber ooze. The apples should still be slightly firm. Do not allow them to get entirely soft.

6. While the apples are cooking, roll out the pastry. Cut out a circle about 10 inches in diameter (1/2 inch wider all around than the skillet), and trim away any excess. When apples are ready, carefully lay the pastry circle over the apples in the skillet, tucking the overlap down between the apples and the inside of the pan.

7. Place the skillet on a rimmed baking sheet, and bake for about 30-35 minutes, until the pastry has risen, and is dry and golden brown. Remove the skillet from the oven, and let it to rest for a minute or two. Tilt the pan and look down inside the edge: if there is a lot of juice, pour most of it off into the sink. [Do not pour it all off, or the apples may stick to the pan.] Place a serving platter upside-down over the skillet and, working quickly and carefully, invert the tart onto the platter. Rearrange any apple slices that may have slipped or stuck to the skillet.