Skip to main content

Canada Day Butter Tarts

There's a Family Guy episode where Lois serves a casserole for dinner, and someone asks "What are these crunchy things?" She says "I ran out of paprika, so I used M&Ms instead." That's my mom!

My mom is a world class recipe substituter. Nothing quite as batshit as M&Ms for paprika, but pretty damn close.  Once, she tried to make Spicy Szechwan Chicken, but we were out of red pepper flakes.  She used oregano instead.  You would be correct in assuming that this was not a screaming success.

In honour of Canada Day, I felt like making butter tarts.  I didn't have any corn syrup, which is called for in the traditional recipe I use, so rather than just doing a straight substitution like my mom would have (and added, I don't know, Sriracha?), I Googled around and found this version, using maple syrup. How apropos!

Another professional-quality food pic.  Trust me, they were delicious.
These ain't health food, and Goopy would bitch-slap a girl for eating something as full of grease and sugar as these. Whatevs.   Eggs, brown sugar, maple syrup, melted butter, and for some reason, a tablespoon of cider vinegar, comprise the filling.  Some people add other things, but some people would be wrong.



Diabetics, turn away!

Pastry is one of those things that turns out best when you are really careful with the temperature of the water and the fat; I wasn't in the mood to be so precise, so I popped over to the market and picked up these tart shells.  I don't normally use any packaged things when baking, but how bad could these be?  I mean, they're low sodium! *giggle*

Oh, low in sodium.  These must be healthy!

Before baking them, I was worried that I had filled them too high, and they'd bubble over and splatter all over the place, but I took the risk.  You'll note I still had quite a bit of filling left over.  The recipe called for using a muffin tin, which would have made these deeper.  For once, I decided not to consume what I couldn't use.  This shit is so sweet, I would probably be in a diabetic coma if I had.

Left over sugar goop, but no more tarts.  I'll admit it, I had a spoonful.  Sugar rush!

They turned out quite lovely, I must say.  They set well, and the pastry is a pale golden colour. Sure, they're a lot smaller than a traditional butter tart, but that just makes them less deadly, not less delicious.  Sugar, butter, and eggs.  No filler.  Pecans are for Yankees, and raisins are for mental patients.  These are proper Canadian butter tarts.  Which should, obviously, be called sugar tarts. Maybe the reason we have free health care and pioneered the use of Insulin is that we think these are something a person should actually eat.  Clearly, as well as being polite to the point of ridiculousness, we are also badass.

For the love of God, eat just one.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Now or Never Books

As I mentioned in a previous post , and as it's the season, I am in a purging and organizing mood.  No, I'm not following Marie Kondo's advice as closely as I should be, mostly because it's SO HARD with books, and I have more books than anything else.  I've gone over and over my bookshelves, but I just can't seem to part with any more titles.  The vast majority of my books do spark joy, even if it's just the memory of having read it; I know I'm supposed to get rid of them anyway.  Not sure I can. I have started making piles that I am calling "now or never" books.  One of the bits of advice in The  Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up  is essentially: if you haven't read it yet, you're never going to.  I just can't face that.  In the pile pictured above are some books that I know will be amazing, but for some reason I haven't found the time. I have to read these in the next, let's say, 2 months, or they get donated.  It

Girls Who Wear Glasses

Image- Pinterest I had braces for 3 years.  That may give you some idea of how out of whack my teeth were as an adolescent.  My dad used to say I could eat corn on the cob through a picket fence.  Even with good insurance, he still referred to my braces as "the trip to Hawaii."  I had them removed just a few weeks into high school.  I was perfect, for about a month. Then, one day in math class, my teacher asked me to do the problem written on the blackboard.  "There's something written on the blackboard?" I said, which was both smart-ass and true.  I couldn't see a damn thing on it.  So, off I went for an eye exam, and, sure enough, I needed glasses.  I was  not  pleased.  Hipsters hadn't yet been spawned by the devil, and the only people who wore glasses were nerds and old people.

Princess Pancakes

Greek yogurt pancakes. As someone who spends as much time as possible on Harbour Island, I feel a kinship with others who love it there and return frequently.  Kinship isn't the right word; that implies some sort of equal status, which I am very well aware I don't share with the Harbour Island people I follow on Instagram: India Hicks ,   Annika Von Holdt , Alessandra Branca , Amanda Brooks , and Marie-Chantal of Greece . Aside from the fact that I am pretty much the only one of these women with any measurable body fat, let's not even get into the gulf between our economic statuses.  (Then again, being the poorest person to regularly holiday on HI, and now to have a house on Eleuthera, is not one of the world's saddest tales, I know). Take Marie-Chantal, or MC, as her friends (and someone who prefers to type only 2 letters) call her. One of three daughters of  duty-free magnate Robert Miller, she married into the deposed Greek royal family in the 90s, and is no