After all the global news, including war, deaths and weddings, it was good to be baking with friends. A casual remark at a birthday party a few weeks ago started the ball rolling. A beautiful fruit tart, baked by Dieter, arrived at the table. Would Dieter teach me how to make one?
Days went by after the party with no word about a baking date. I began to think I had probably been a little too assertive with my request, for he is an amazing pastry chef, having been taught by his father, who was an important baker in Germany.
Finally, a date was chosen, Sunday at 10 a.m. My schedule was incredibly tight, but I was pleased to make two or two-and-a-half hours available for this event. After quickly touring the garden in the chilly morning air, we donned our aprons and the master chef began his lessons. The dough was made and refrigerated. It needs to be chilled overnight, so he pulled out the dough he had made the previous evening. This was just like the Cooking Channel, except that the casual conversation of the six of us had started to roll around the kitchen!
And so it went - I remember looking up at the clock when it said 1:30.
Panic was settling in, for the tarts still needed to be dressed with their fruits, and then glazed. Onward we soldiered, and the conversations had wandered over a wide variety of subjects, including tools for the kitchen, cleaning skills for the oven, favorite recipes, cookbooks that misled, music that we loved, modern architecture and its dilemmas. At 3 p.m., or thereabouts, the tarts were finished, and Dieter said we must have a small buffet with some wine and bread, meats and cheese. It was impossible to say no.
Finally, pulling ourselves away, close to 5 p.m., the beauty and joy of the day won out over any panic. All those needed-to-do things were irrelevant and could be dealt with on the fly. I had just enjoyed something so rare these days - an extended, peaceful, nourishing and highly amusing communion with friends.
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