Lemon Curd Tartlets

Late July, and the Librarian's Table manuscript is finished. One hundred and fifty pages. Fifteen chapters. Fifteen recipes paired with fifteen books. Shrimp and grits with Morrison. She-crab soup with Conroy. Peach cobbler with Hurston. The pairings are the connections. The connections are the book. And the book is done.

The finishing was quiet — not the dramatic completion I imagined but the gentle setting-down of the pen, the gentle closing of the notebook, the gentle standing-up from the desk and walking into the kitchen and making she-crab soup, because the making is the celebration, the celebration is the making, and the finishing of a book is best celebrated with the food the book is about.

I will send the manuscript to Catherine Wells at Lowcountry Press. The sending is the next step. The step is the bravery. And the bravery is the writing, which was always the bravest thing.

I visited Joy on Saturday. She has been painting flowers — sunflowers, specifically, in every color except yellow, because Joy has decided that sunflowers are not yellow, they are whatever color the painter decides, and the painter has decided purple and blue and red and green, and the decision is the art.

I made she-crab soup. The manuscript is done. The soup is done. The two are done together, the way they were begun together, the way they have always been together: the cooking and the writing, the writing and the cooking, the one woman doing both.

She-crab soup was the celebration I wrote into the manuscript, but these lemon curd tartlets were the celebration I made for myself after — small and bright and a little tart, the way finishing something truly brave tends to feel. Joy’s purple sunflowers were still in my mind, the whole insistence that a thing can be whatever color you decide it is, and there is something of that same spirit in a tartlet: small enough to hold in your hand, bright enough to mean something, and entirely yours to make however you choose.

Prep Time: 25 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 12 tartlets

Ingredients

1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup powdered sugar
1/2 cup (1 stick) cold unsalted butter, cut into small cubes
1 egg yolk
1–2 tablespoons ice water
For the lemon curd:
3 large eggs
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup fresh lemon juice (about 3–4 lemons)
1 tablespoon lemon zest
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces
Pinch of salt
Powdered sugar or fresh berries, for serving (optional)

Instructions

Make the pastry dough. In a bowl, whisk together flour and powdered sugar. Add cold butter and use your fingertips to work it in until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Add the egg yolk and 1 tablespoon ice water; mix until the dough just comes together, adding the second tablespoon of water if needed. Flatten into a disk, wrap, and refrigerate for 15 minutes.
Press into tart pans. Preheat oven to 375°F. Divide the dough evenly among a 12-cup mini tart or muffin pan, pressing it up the sides to form shells about 1/8 inch thick. Prick the bottoms with a fork.
Blind bake the shells. Bake for 12–15 minutes, until the shells are lightly golden. Remove from the oven and let cool completely in the pan before filling.
Make the lemon curd. In a small saucepan over medium-low heat, whisk together the eggs, sugar, lemon juice, lemon zest, and salt. Cook, stirring constantly, for 8–10 minutes until the mixture thickens enough to coat the back of a spoon. Remove from heat and stir in the butter pieces one at a time until fully incorporated and smooth.
Strain and cool the curd. Pour the curd through a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl or measuring cup with a spout. Let it cool for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Fill and set. Spoon the warm lemon curd into the cooled tart shells, filling each nearly to the top. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes, until the curd is fully set.
Serve. Dust lightly with powdered sugar or top with a fresh berry before serving. Store covered in the refrigerator for up to 3 days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Lemon Curd Tartlets — Small, Bright Things for the Day the Manuscript Was Done