Crunchy Peanut Butter Tarts

Daylight saving ended. The dark at six PM. Set the Table at New Birth Saturday morning. Six girls. We did baked chicken.

Daddy in his apartment in the back. I brought him his coffee and his medication this morning. He grumbled. The grumble was the love. Marcus, 20, studying for finals at Alabama.

Pecan pie Saturday. Pecans from Aunt Cookie's tree if I'm lucky.

Jasmine, 18, home from Howard for the weekend. Isaiah, 17, shot baskets in the driveway after school.

I went to bed at ten. The dishwasher was running. The day was the day.

Derek and I had date night Friday. Same restaurant, same booth, same enchiladas for me and carne asada for him.

Pastor preached about the prodigal son again. He preaches about that boy at least three times a year. The text is the text but every preaching is different. I cried in the second service this time. Don't ask me why.

The blood pressure check was Wednesday. The numbers were borderline. The doctor wants me to walk more. I am walking more.

I had a hard counseling case at school this week. A seventh-grade girl whose mama lost her job. We talked. I gave her my number. I told her she could call.

Darnell sent a photo from Clarksville. The garden is producing. He grew tomatoes the size of softballs. I sent him back a photo of my sweet potato casserole. We are competitive about food now in our middle age.

I made a casserole for the church potluck. The pan came back empty. That is the only review I trust.

Miss Ernestine called Tuesday. She's ninety-something and sharp as ever. She told me my potato salad still needs more mustard.

The kids were home for the weekend. The house was loud the way it should be.

Wednesday Bible study at the church. We read through Proverbs. The women in my row argued about whether wisdom is built or born. I said both. They agreed, sort of.

Daddy sat in his chair after dinner watching the news. He fell asleep before the third quarter. Standard.

Andre called from LA. He told the Kevin Hart story again. Twenty-some years and that boy is still telling that story. Everyone in this family is going to hear about Kevin Hart at our funerals.

I drove to the Walmart on Camp Creek Saturday morning. The kind of grocery run that takes two hours because you run into three people you know. Sister Patrice caught me in the produce. We talked about her grandbaby for fifteen minutes.

Thursday I made cornbread for a sister at church whose husband had surgery. I dropped it off at the hospital. She cried at the door. I told her, eat the cornbread, baby. The food is the saying.

I read for an hour Sunday night before bed. Some novel about a Black woman in 1960s Alabama. Mama would have liked it.

I went to the cemetery Saturday morning. Brenda's grave is on the hill at South-View. Curtis still goes most Sundays. I left a small bouquet of magnolias.

Tuesday evening I sat at the kitchen table with my composition notebook and worked on the cookbook. From Brenda's Kitchen — that's the working title. I cannot write the introduction without crying yet.

Sunday service at New Birth this morning. The choir sang. I sang soprano in the second alto row. Pastor preached about Naomi and Ruth. The congregation said amen. I said amen.

The neighbors had a Friday cookout this week. I brought my mac and cheese. They have come to expect this. I have come to expect this. The block is the block.

Pecan pie Saturday didn’t happen quite the way I planned — Aunt Cookie’s tree didn’t come through this time, and after the week I’d had, between the blood pressure check and the hard counseling case and the cornbread run to the hospital, I wasn’t going to fight it. These Crunchy Peanut Butter Tarts stepped in and did exactly what a good dessert is supposed to do: they made the house smell like something good was happening, and when I set them on the table, everybody got quiet in that particular way. The pan came back empty. That is still the only review I trust.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 12 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour (includes chilling) | Servings: 12

Ingredients

12 pre-made mini tart shells
1 cup crunchy peanut butter
4 oz cream cheese, softened
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
1 cup powdered sugar, sifted
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 teaspoon coconut oil or neutral oil
2 tablespoons chopped roasted peanuts, for garnish

Instructions

Bake the shells. Preheat oven to 350°F. Arrange mini tart shells on a baking sheet and bake according to package directions, usually 10—12 minutes, until lightly golden. Remove and let cool completely on a wire rack before filling.
Make the filling. In a medium bowl, beat the softened cream cheese and butter together with a hand mixer until smooth and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add the crunchy peanut butter, powdered sugar, vanilla extract, and salt. Beat on medium speed until fully combined and creamy, scraping down the sides as needed.
Fill the tarts. Spoon or pipe the peanut butter filling evenly into each cooled tart shell, smoothing the tops with the back of a spoon or a small offset spatula. Do not overfill — leave a small border at the rim.
Chill. Transfer the filled tarts to the refrigerator and chill for at least 30 minutes, or until the filling is set and firm to the touch.
Make the chocolate drizzle. Combine the chocolate chips and oil in a small microwave-safe bowl. Microwave in 30-second intervals, stirring between each, until fully melted and smooth. Let cool for 2 minutes.
Finish and serve. Remove the tarts from the refrigerator. Drizzle the melted chocolate over each tart using a spoon or a small piping bag. Sprinkle chopped roasted peanuts over the top immediately before the chocolate sets. Return to the refrigerator for 5 minutes to let the drizzle firm up, then serve.

Nutrition (per serving)

Crunchy Peanut Butter Tarts — When the Pecans Don’t Come Through, the Sweetness Still Does