golden plum custard tart with almond sable dough (via Karen DeMasco)

It takes some effort to get to our farmers’ market, and it is only five blocks from our home. The walk isn’t hard. It’s the getting ready part.

There are diapers to be changed, children to be chased down, pajamas to be removed, children to be chased down again after escaping our clutches. Clothes to be put on, more chasing. Shoes to be found. Chasing. Shoes to be put on.

Chasing. Again. Herding to the door. A tag-team combo of offense and defense to get them in the stroller (a 3-seater monstrosity that looks like an SUV with a captain’s chair. We clear sidewalks with that thing. But it’s the only stroller out there that works for our kids’ ages, so we are forced to be “those people”).

Then we walk. 

Buying local would be so much easier if we didn't have to change diapers.

We've lived here long enough to have something to say when we see the neighbors, other than the weather. And the size of our stroller. Remember, these are the people who came running when the tree fell. Really good neighbors. So the farmers’ market ends up being much more about community than the actual food. That feels right.

Once we get to the market, we are ordered to run and see the fishmonger. And get terrified by the live lobsters. Then fresh lemonade for the kids. We hope to see the bee lady who brought her bees last year in one of those tall plastic-encased hives, but is nowhere to be found now. The produce vendors. A final stop at Scrumbcious to see Jessica and whatever wonderful thing she’s made that day. Usually it involves frosting and sprinkles for the kids.

A walk by the train station to see the tracks and look for Thomas.

Home.

When we lived in NYC, just Karen and I, the green market was about discovery. Surprise me, farmers. Impress me. And they never failed. But now the farmers’ market has become, for us, a ritual that demands familiarity. And community. And connections.

But these plums. These golden plums. So impressive. They were the first things my eyes caught as we approached the market. We were just walking toward home when I knew I needed them and turned the boat around.

Make this tart, inspired by The Craft of Baking, authored by James Beard-winner and pastry chef at Tom Colicchio’s Craft, Karen DeMasco, with any sweet/tart stone fruit: plums, apricots, nectarines, peaches, or cherries. But these golden plums were perfect.

When you read “custard,” do not think of eggs here. This isn’t eggy. I don’t do eggy. Think light and creamy, a perfect counterpoint to the tartness of the plums.

Tarts don't have to be fussy. This certainly isn't. Make the full dough recipe and save half for another tart. You'll want one soon. Probably right after next week's farmers' market.

recipe | golden plum custard tart with almond sable dough (via Karen DeMasco)

for the almond sable dough

• 2 1/4 c unbleached all purpose flour, plus more for dusting
• 3/4 c almond flour (We used almond meal because that's what we had on hand, which made it more rustic. And cheaper.)
• 1/2 t kosher salt
• 14 T chilled unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
• 1/2 c plus 1 tablespoon confectioners' sugar
• 1 large egg
• 1 large egg yolk

In a bowl, whisk together the all purpose flour, almond flour, and salt.
In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, combine the butter and confectioners' sugar. Mix on medium-low speed until well combined, about four minutes.

Mix in the egg and then the yolk, allowing each to be incorporated before adding the next. In two additions, add the flour mixture, scraping down the sides of the bowl after each addition.

Turn out the dough onto a clean lightly floured work surface. Divide it in half, shape into flattened disks, and wrap each one in plastic wrap. Refrigerate for at least one hour or overnight.

(The dough can be frozen for up to 1 month; thaw it overnight in the refrigerator before using.)

for the peach custard

• A bit of all purpose flour, for rolling
• One round of the almond sable dough (1/2 of the recipe)
• 1/4 c sliced blanched almonds
• 1 c sour cream
• 1 large egg
• 2 large egg yolks
• 1/4 c granulated sugar
• 1/2 t vanilla extract
• 1/2 t kosher salt
• 1/4 c almond flour (again, we used almond meal)
• 3 c golden plums (or other stone fruit), pitted
• 2 T turbinado sugar

On a lightly floured surface, roll out the dough to an 11-inch round. Fit the dough into a 9 1/2-inch fluted tart pan with a removable bottom. Press the dough into the edges of the pan, and use a pairing knife to trim off the top. With a fork, prick the bottom of the dough ail over. Chill in the freezer for 10 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 350F. Spread the almonds on a baking sheet and toast for 5 minutes; set aside.

Line the chilled tart shell with a round of parchment paper or foil, leaving a 1-inch overhang. Fill it with dried beans. Bake until the edges of the crust are just beginning to turn golden, 15 to 20 minutes. Remove the parchment and beans. Rotate the pan, return the crust to the oven, and continue baking until it is golden all over, 15 to 20 minutes more. Transfer the tart shell to a wire rack and let it cool completely.

In a bowl, whisk together the sour cream, egg, egg yolks, granulated sugar, vanilla, and salt. Fold in the almond flour.

Set the tart pan on a baking sheet.

Place the plums into the cooled tart shell, arranging the fruit in a snug single layer. Pour the custard mixture over the plums, and then sprinkle the top with the almonds and turbinado sugar.

Bake, rotating the pan halfway through, until the almonds are toasted and the edges of the filling are set, about 30 minutes. The center will be a little loose.

Transfer the pan to a wire rack and let it cool completely. Remove the outer ring of the pan before serving.