My heirloom tomato tart and I have sort of a love hate relationship going on.  It is delicious, ridiculously simple to make and looks like a million bucks…see?

It is a truly dependable and spectacular tasting tart so why the animosity you may wonder.  Well…I am getting very suspicious  that the invitations I am receiving to various dinners and parties are actually an invitation for that little tart of a tart you see there.

When someone invites me over for dinner or any social occasion, usually, the first thing that pops out of my mouth is, “What can I bring?”  It’s the way I was brought up, and if you must know the truth, I am a bit of a show-off when it comes to my food.  I like to put on that humble appearance of, “You do like that?!  Thank you!  I just threw it together.” When in reality, I am thinking, “JACKPOT…that was the perfect dish to bring here…Nailed it!!!”

In the good old days, I used to have to toil over what I should  bring.  Will it be a decadent chocolate cake or a savory dish?  But now-a-days, the inviter usually politely and slyly adds,” Would you mind bringing your fantastic tomato tart with you?”  See how that clever person first compliments me? She knows me well I’m thinking.  Flattery gets you EVERYWHERE around here! And just as she suspects, I answer, “Of course!”

At first, I was the tart’s biggest fan.  I was introduced to it at a lovely cooking school in La Canada, CA called Chez Cherie.  Cherie, herself, the lively instructor and energetic entrepreneur, demonstrated it and then proceeded to let us taste it fresh out of the oven. As it baked, we were taunted by the heavenly aroma permeating her store.   It was love at first bite if you must know the truth.  The slightly sharp Gruyere, coupled with the bright and summery sweet tomatoes, all tucked into a flaky crust was almost too much.  I could have eaten the whole pie myself if I were there alone, but I wasn’t so we had to share.

Later that night, recipes in tow, I was thinking of how soon I could get myself to the nearest Trader Joe’s where Cherie had mentioned they had a lovely box of reasonably priced heirlooms awaiting me. My book club was coming over that weekend and I was dying to make this tart for them.   I went to my local Joes the very next day and to my dismay….yes dismay…I almost teared up…there were no heirlooms to be found.  I called around to three more Joes and finally found myself driving back to La Canada to their Trader Joe’s where indeed they were awaiting me.

Purple, orange, red and yellow…all beauties.  They were prettier than any box of gems or bunch of flowers if you ask me.  I raced home and made my tart.  It was everything I had dreamed of all night.

Well it has been almost two years since I first came upon this tomato tart, and I have made it dozens of times by now.  Its dance card has been filled up, then started anew and then filled up again.  The tart, unlike me, always comes to the party dressed to the nines, in perfect form and gets compliments lavished upon it where ever it goes. Yes, the ugly green monster has taken over—I am jealous of my tart as it so appropriately is named.  I guess I am OK for now since it can’t leave the house without me as its chauffeur.  I hope you can reign in your tomato tart better than I have!

Heirloom Tomato Tart
Taken directly from Chez Cherie Cooking School in La Canada CA
Pie Dough for a 9″ tart , store bought or homemade works fine (click the link to my Lemon Meringue Pie which includes the plain and perfect pie crust recipe and how-to).
2 t. Dijon mustard
1 c. grated Gruyere cheese
2-3 heirloom tomatoes, sliced (I used 5 small ones)
sprinkle of salt and pepper
2 t. dried herbes de provence(or equal parts dried oregano and thyme and a pinch of rosemary, basil and sage mixed together in a small bowl and then sprinkled over the tomatoes)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Roll the pie dough out large enough to fit the tart pan (or pie pan if that’s what you have), and line the pan with the dough.  Poke the dough all over the bottom and sides with the tines of a fork, gently please…don’t take out your aggressions on this lovely tart dough. Cover the dough with parchment paper or aluminum foil and place pie weights, raw beans or raw rice inside (to weight the pastry down).  Place the tart pan in the oven and bake 12 minutes.  Carefully remove the parchment and weights and return the tart pan to the oven for 8 minutes.

Remove from the oven and spread the mustard over the cooked crust.  Scatter the grated cheese over the pastry, and arrange the tomato slices on top.  Season with salt, pepper and the herbs de provence or herb mixture and return to the oven for 15 minutes, until tomatoes are “relaxed” and tart smells fabulous.  Let cool for five minutes and then remove from the pan. Slice in wedges to serve. It’s totally irresistible warm.

 This Orange Glazed Chicken is one of those nostalgic foods which creates fond memories of my grandfather. He always requested this dish for his birthdaydinner, along with a spectacular orange layer cake with cream cheese frosting, and my mother, his daughter-in-law, always obliged.

My mother’s orange chicken is phenomenal…and can perfume the entire house with citrus-y, honey smells that will waft up to your nose and give you goosebumps because you know just how good it’s going to be. I think I have made it only twice in my twenty or so years on my own, even though it’s one of my favorites, and the reason being is two fold: 1) I can never, ever make it as good as Mom does and 2) Although helping me to conjure up fond memories of my grandfather, it makes me a bit melancholy since he has been gone for many years.

My grandfather  was a prisoner of war in WWII where he courageously fought the Nazis as a tail gunner. I have a journal that he kept with poems, stories and long “Thank You” notes written to him for being the optimist of his battalion; the one who would keep the men going and convince them that there was going to be an end to the awful war, and they would someday get to see the ones they loved and go home.

As a kid, I would hear his war stories and feel proud, but I  never fully understood the depths of his heroism and selflessness until reading the journals, newspaper articles and, frankly, getting old enough to appreciate how monumental it is that some people are willing to give their lives for others.

To me, he was just an amazing grandpa, who would pick us up every Friday to take us out for some fun, make us milk shakes to slurp at night and omelets in the morning sung to his own silly song. He and my grandmother would act as if we were the best things that ever happened to them, and that’s just hard to beat as a child or an adult for that matter.

I think, as I am planning to make the Orange Chicken tonight, is there anyone in my life who feels like they are the best thing that ever happened to me? I hope so.  I really hope so because there are so many people who I just couldn’t do without and are, without a doubt, the best things that ever happened to me.

I have brought back this post because hands down it is my most-viewed post and seems to get many positive comments of satisfied customers who have replicated it. So have at it, and let me know if you enjoyed it too. And before you hem and haw, and drag your feet, prep time is about 20 minutes and it cooks in about 1 hour and a quarter. So, no excuses! Chop, chop or roast, roast more appropriately.

Where is your happy place? What is the one thing in the world that can pick you up out of a slump and place you on solid ground? It’s important that you know yours and that you can summon it up on any given day when life is more than a little topsy turvy. There are too many moments that can throw you for a loop so please, if there is one take away from this post, research your happy place and know how to reach it at a moment’s notice. It is essential.

My happy place is my kitchen.   My happy place invites me in, gives me a hug, and seems to say, “It’s OK. You are welcome here and everything is going to be fine.” It also seems to shout, “Roast a turkey! Make some soup, mash those potatoes and then throw in a pumpkin bundt cake!”. I have some pretty weird self-talk. I am aware.

And when I’m in my happy place, my hand instinctively reaches for the knob on my oven and swishes it on to 350 (well in this case for the turkey, technically 325 folks), I step outside to snip some rosemary and pluck a fresh orange off the tree, and I inadvertently begin to sing the chorus lines from my favorite songs. I usually only know a couple of lines from any given song, but I belt them out anyway, unknown words be damned. Please don’t tell me I should turn on Pandora. I love Pandora. We’re good friends, but when I’m in my happy place, I sing. My Golden Retriever, Sadie, who sits dopily at my feet, with her sweet smile and her big brown eyes, likes my singing and would not be as warmed by Pandora. I know this for certain. I am a doggy mind reader. It’s one of my hidden talents.

You can now officially stop saving that delicious roasted turkey dinner for Thanksgiving alone. Roasting a half turkey breast is the easiest thing you’ll do in the kitchen and it’s extremely rewarding. This particular turkey breast turned out so golden and juicy that I would swipe little slices of it to snack on the next day.  The herbs give the turkey so much savory flavor and the oranges add a hint of sweetness and help the turkey stay nice and juicy.

You can then use the turkey breast for dinner, lunches during the week or for the king of comfort foods at my house,Creamed Turkey. It’s what we always eat the day after Thanksgiving, gets requested by several family members for their prized birthday dinners, and it is creamy, warm and comforting. To me, any dinner that includes roasted turkey is like a big hug on a plate so consider this post a big hug from me to you.

How to Roast a Turkey Breast

Makes enough turkey slices for a family of four for dinner (small-medium eaters). If you need more, roast two turkey half breasts.
This is an S&C original recipe
20 minutes prep time and approximately 1 hr. and 15 minutes cooking time.
1 half bone in turkey breast with skin, rinsed and patted dry
1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary (if using dry spices, use two teaspoons of each)
1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme
1 tablespoon chopped fresh sage
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon freshly cracked pepper
2 tablespoons of freshly squeezed juice from an orange
2 tablespoons good olive oil
one orange thinly sliced
2 whole sprigs of rosemary
4 large washed but unpeeled carrots
1/2 unpeeled sweet onion
1-2 cups chicken broth or white wine
4 tablespoons of unsalted butter

To make the turkey: Turn your oven on to 325 degrees Fahrenheit to preheat and get out either a small roasting pan or a glass rectangular casserole dish or other comparable dish. Rinse and pat dry your turkey (don’t leave it wet, the paste won’t adhere well). In a small bowl, make a paste, mixing together the chopped herbs, rosemary through sage, salt and pepper. Squeeze in the juice and drizzle in the olive oil. Mix together until it forms a paste. Rub the paste all over the meat and skin of the turkey and then also underneath the skin.

Thinly slice an orange and tuck in the oranges under the skin in a single layer as well as two sprigs of rosemary.  Cut your butter into small pats and put single pats of butter over the skin and meat. Cut your onion in a couple of large, thick slices. See photo in post for butter and carrots.  Place four carrots lined up in your roasting pan (use more carrots if they are small or your turkey is larger than the four carrots can support) and the onion pieces. Place the turkey on the carrots and onion. Pour the wine or chicken broth into the roasting pan (don’t pour onto turkey),  and drop in any remaining pieces of the orange. Place a meat thermometer in your turkey, place in the thickest portion of the breast, being careful not to touch the bone. Then tent the turkey with aluminum foil and roast for 45 minutes tented. Remove the tent and let roast another half hour or until meat thermometer reads 165 degrees F. Smaller breasts (2-3 lbs may cook in a little over an hour whereas larger ones, 3-4 lbs, may take an hour and a half). It’s a good idea to see where your temperature is at an hour. A meat thermometer is imperative with cooking a  turkey to properly cook it to the correct temperature for food safety.

Your turkey should turn out  a nice golden brown from the butter. When you take out your turkey, tent it with fresh foil (do not use the foil which touched the raw turkey please).  Let it rest for a good 10-15 minutes before slicing to allow the juices to spread through the turkey and be maintained in the turkey meat instead of on the cutting board. Cutting a turkey breast is not my forte….please consult Google for that.

Health and Safety Note: When working with any poultry, it is important to wash your hands every time you have touched the turkey. Then when you reach for salt shakers and the foil, you are not contaminating these items with raw turkey juices which could contain bacteria.

Not many food blogs include a fly in the title. I guess I am just special that way.  Doesn’t it spawn an immediate interest in my tantalizing lemon linguine, no? Ah well. One can never say I am too sophisticated for my own good over here at Sweet and Crumby. This lemon linguine is definitely something to relish.

It is absolutely luscious with a bit of tang from the lemon, but just the right amount of saltiness and richness from the parmesan. And those leeks, they add such a nice little bite of both texture and freshness. Top it with juicy and plump shrimp, scatter some freshly snipped parsley, and you definitely have an easy new dish to not only add to your monthly  repertoire, but one that looks flashy and tastes divine (and isn’t loaded with fat and calories!). Win cubed I say! (I am trying to start a new trend…”win cubed”…please pass it on. )

Now back to my fly on the wall reference. As a young mom, I was frequently questioning my parenting skills. As my kiddo whined for some toy, laundry was piling high and dishes were stacked in the sink, I would wonder, “Is this normal? Do other houses and moms look like this? Or is there something inherently wrong in what I am doing over here?”

I desperately wanted to be a fly on the wall at someone else’s house; someone whose kids I thought were “perfect” and whose momming skills seemed to be exemplary. Someone who never left the sack lunch by the door, always had matching clothes on and never, ever  had french fry crumbs in their kid’s car seat. I wanted to know how it’s done and what it looks like so I could replicate THAT.

But as I got older and somewhat wiser, I realized no one really has it all together; there are no perfect kids and certainly no perfect moms. We are all just treading water at various times. I do think there are some times out there when one is riding the easy train for a little while.  But those easy times are simply snippets of time in a long up and down hill ride of raising children.

I am thankful my almost-grown kids are doing great, amazing even, but they definitely have had their bumps in the road. And, although I try to be a super duper mom who will never be mentioned in therapy later on, I know that I make mistakes, hopefully recoverable ones, and I worry too much and grasp too tightly to them. Overall, parenting is a lot of intuition and an equal amount of guess work, and sometimes it is just survival based.

Looking wishfully at other moms who appear to have it all together is just a glossy window pane view in my opinion. We don’t know each others’ pains, squabbles or daily battles that are hidden from public view. The fly on the wall in any of our houses may take in quite a different view than the window that the world looks through, but ultimately, we can all just do the best we’ve got each day and try to afford others the courtesy to do the same.

I hope you get to make and enjoy this pasta dish with perhaps no flies on the wall at your house.

If this lemon linguine didn’t hit the mark, maybe you would like to try my lightened up Fettuccine Alfredo.

Lemon Linguine with Shrimp

Inspired by Cooking Light but with many changes.
Serves Approximately 4-6 Medium-sized portions (depending on portion size)

• 8 0z linguine
• 3 garlic cloves, chopped
• 1 1/2 lbs. of raw large shrimp, shelled and deveined
• 3-4 T. olive oil, divided
• 2 T. butter, divided
• 2 leeks trimmed, cut in half lengthwise, and thinly sliced (1 1/2 cups).
• 2/3 cup fat-free, lower-sodium chicken broth or organic No Chicken broth (made by Imagine Foods). I use the No Chicken…it’s wonderful in this!
• 2 1/2 T. fresh lemon juice
• 1/3 c. dry white wine
• 1 t. grated lemon peel
• 1/2 c. grated Parmesan
• salt and pepper to taste
• 2 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

Optional Addition: 1 can of drained artichokes chopped.

First properly clean your leeks. There are bits of dirt in between the layers.  Trim both the top and bottom off of the leeks (like green onions). Then cut the leeks in half lengthwise leaving two long equal halves. Loosen the layers and submerge and soak in water either in a long dish or a Ziploc bag for a couple of minutes. Drain the water and fill again and repeat if there was dirt in your water.

To begin the dish: Boil a large pot of water for your linguine. Salt the pot with two or three shakes of salt (1/2 t.).  Add linguine when the water is boiling and stir. Stir now and then while making your sauce. Make your sauce while the pasta is cooking. Drain linguine when “al dente” ( a little firmer than you like to eat it). I always taste my pasta before deciding whether it is time to drain it. It will continue to cook as you drain it and will cook a bit in the sauce as well. Drain and rinse with cold water and set aside until your sauce is done. Always drain pasta well so you are not adding water into your pasta sauce.

To begin your sauce and cook your shrimp:  In a large pan, heat 1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil over medium heat, stir and saute the chopped garlic for a minute or less. DO NOT COOK ON HIGH HEAT or garlic will BURN! Garlic burns quickly. Scrape the garlic and remaining oil into a small bowl and set aside to add back to the pan later. Remove any bits of garlic left in the pan with a paper towel so they don’t burn while you cook your shrimp. Add 1 1/2 tablespoons of olive oil and one tablespoon of butter to the pan you used to cook the garlic in, and turn on medium-high heat. When good and hot, put the cleaned and dry shrimp in the pan. Turn shrimp over with tongs in about a  minute or so. When they are ready to be flipped, you will see the shrimp starting to turn a light pink underneath. *Cook another minute or so on the other side until just barely pink and not blue/gray-ish. Take them out with tongs, leaving the remaining oil and butter in the pan, and set aside. Do not clean your pan in between the making of your sauce. The essence of the shrimp and previously cooked garlic will continue to flavor your sauce in the next steps.  *It is important not to over cook the shrimp. Overcooked shrimp tastes rubbery and dry. The shrimp will cook residually when you remove it from the pan and will cook even a little more when added back into the pasta dish with hot sauce.

Add a tablespoon of olive oil to the “shrimp” pan (if needed depending on how much oil and butter mixture is left after cooking the shrimp) over medium heat. You want to be able to cook the leeks in about 1-2 T. of oil and butter mixture. So if you are short, simply add a tablespoon of olive oil to the pan.  Using a wooden spoon, be sure to get those good bits of shrimp-essence scraped off the bottom of the pan and into the oil. Add back in the sauteed garlic and the fresh leeks to the pan. Stir and saute for about two minutes on medium heat until the leeks are somewhat  translucent.  Add the chicken broth, lemon juice and wine. Bring to a boil and then reduce the heat to simmer. Simmer for about five minutes on a low-simmer or until liquid has reduced by about half. Turn down to a low heat now, and add the lemon zest, Parmesan, one tablespoon of butter, 1/2 t. salt and a few grinds of pepper and stir. Add the optional chopped artichokes now too. Taste. This is where personal preference comes into play. If it’s too lemon-y to you, add a couple  more splashes of your chicken broth (maybe 1/4 c.) and stir. Not enough lemon? Squirt a little (maybe 1/2 T.) of lemon juice into the sauce. Taste again! If it needs a tad more “something”, chances are another tablespoon of butter will add some richness and bring everything together or if it is tasting under salted to your liking, add another 1/2 t. more salt or a little more Parmesan. When the sauce is perfect,  turn off the heat and add the shrimp to the pan and stir.

Add the pasta to the shrimp and sauce (not the other way around) and coat with the sauce. Serve on a platter or in a bowl and top with the chopped parsley.  My favorite side dish is a simple Caesar salad with this. Enjoy!