Miniature Almond Tarts

Last full week of August and the season is thinking about changing. The light is beginning to shift in the way I know: more gold, less white, the shadows longer by five in the afternoon. The azalea bushes are done blooming and going ordinary and I am already looking forward to spring when I know I should be here in the summer. I am here. I am just looking ahead, which I am learning is allowed as long as you do not let it become the whole story.

Tyler and I had a long conversation this week about the future, the kind you have when the future is close enough to talk about concretely. He has been looking at a house in Prattville, three blocks from my apartment. He showed me photos on his phone on Saturday and he was watching my face while I looked at them and I said: it is a good house. He said: I thought you would say that. I said: is this the house. He said: I want to know what you think first. I said: Tyler. He said: yes? I said: I think it is a good house. He said: okay. He said it in the way that means it is decided.

I made a blackberry cobbler on Saturday with the last blackberries from the farm stand, the same basic batter I use for peach cobbler, dropped over fresh berries sweetened with a little sugar and lemon. The cobbler baked while we sat at my kitchen table and talked about the house and the future and other things, and when it came out of the oven it was the right color and the right smell and we ate it warm and I thought: this is the moment before the next part begins.

The cobbler that Saturday was really just the backdrop — the thing I did with my hands while Tyler and I talked about the house and what comes next. I’ve been turning that afternoon over all week, and when I went back into the kitchen I found myself reaching for the almond tart pan instead of the cast iron, wanting something a little more deliberate, a little more finished around the edges. These miniature almond tarts feel like that moment to me: small and exact and sweet in a way that knows what it is.

Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 24 mini tarts

Ingredients

Tart Shells
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
6 oz cream cheese, softened
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
Almond Filling
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
2 large eggs
1 cup almond flour (or finely ground blanched almonds)
1 teaspoon pure almond extract
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
Pinch of salt
Powdered sugar, for dusting (optional)
Sliced almonds, for topping (optional)

Instructions

Make the dough. Beat softened butter and cream cheese together until smooth and fully combined. Add flour and salt and mix until a soft dough forms. Divide dough into two discs, wrap in plastic, and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.
Preheat and prepare. Preheat oven to 350°F. Lightly grease two 12-cup mini muffin tins.
Form the shells. Roll chilled dough into 1-inch balls and press each one into the bottom and up the sides of a mini muffin cup, forming a small shell. Refrigerate the formed shells for 10 minutes while you make the filling.
Mix the filling. Beat butter and sugar together until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each. Mix in almond flour, almond extract, vanilla extract, and salt until just combined.
Fill and top. Spoon about 1 heaping teaspoon of almond filling into each chilled tart shell — they should be about 3/4 full. Press 2–3 sliced almonds gently onto the top of each, if using.
Bake. Bake for 18–22 minutes, until the filling is set and the edges of the shells are lightly golden. The tops should feel just firm to the touch.
Cool and finish. Allow tarts to cool in the pans for 10 minutes, then run a thin knife around the edges and transfer to a wire rack. Dust with powdered sugar once fully cooled, if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Miniature Almond Tarts — The Baking You Do While the Future Gets Decided