Monday, November 24, 2008

Cabin apple cider tart

I spent this past weekend in a state so relaxed it was practically comatose. A bunch of us went up to Byron's family cabin up north. It's nearby Chattahoochee National Park and Tallulah Gorge, and the cabin itself is perched above a little creek. It was pretty cold, especially by Georgia standards, so mostly I sat in front of the fire, drank and read. On Friday I made pizzas and we ended up having an elaborate whiskey tasting. Whiskey also may or may not have played a role in the Feat of Strength that occured late on Saturday night when we all decided it would be a great idea to go stand barefoot in the icy mountain creek for as long as possible. Turns out the creek was extremely cold, which makes for great branch water but chilly-ass feet. Charlie made his amazing fish tacos that night, which were brilliant, as usual. A pot of cider was left to reduce on the fireplace so by dinnertime on Saturday it was a thick appley syrup. Charlie had brought his mandoline (who the hell brings a mandoline to cabin weekend? Charlie.) so I sliced a few apples that Byron had procured from the nearby Jaemor Farm Market, dragged them through the reduced cider syrup and made a pretty rustic galette with the leftover pizza dough (plus some butter and sugar). At some point Charlie and I were discussing how awesome it would be to have some mascarpone cheese to accompany it and Michelle goes "oh, I think I brought some mascarpone, it's in the fridge." (who the hell brings not-specifically-requested mascarpone cheese to cabin weekend? Michelle.) We mixed it with whiskey, lemon zest and a bit of sugar, then gave each other high fives.

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