Simple Mascarpone Peach Tart

Last week of August. My birthday is in three weeks. Fifty-nine. The numbers are creeping toward sixty. I am not dreading it. I am also not rushing toward it. It is the age that is coming. Sixty.

I made calabaza soup this week. The first of the season. There was a small green-skinned calabaza at the Park Street bodega and I could not resist. Early fall vegetables appearing in late August. I roasted the calabaza, blended it with coconut milk and chicken broth, finished with sofrito. Eduardo ate two bowls. Mami ate a small bowl and said, "The coconut is a little strong." I had used the correct amount. She is wrong in the way that she is always slightly wrong about my coconut, because her nose shifts, because her sense of sweet-savory balance has changed. I do not adjust. I thank her for the feedback and serve the next portion the same way. She eats it anyway.

Thursday at the food bank I made a calabaza soup too. Huge batch. The regulars were delighted. "A pumpkin soup," Terrence said. "You make pumpkin soup the Caribbean way." I said, "Yes, Terrence." He said, "Pumpkin soup in Barbados is with green fig and fish. Do you have a recipe?" I said, "Terrence, I do not. Teach me." He wrote it on a napkin for me. I am going to try making it next week. I am going to bring my version back to the food bank. This is the exchange. I serve what I know. The regulars teach me what they know. The food bank becomes a teaching kitchen in both directions.

Mami on Sunday had a hard hour. She sat at the table for ten minutes and then asked to go home. Eduardo drove her. She did not eat much. She was not in distress. She was just tired.

Later Sunday night I called Ana. I told her about Mami. She said, "Carmen, I will come up next weekend." I said, "Okay." She will. She comes now once a month. Mami has three of her five siblings within a reasonable range — Ana in Bridgeport, Julio in San Juan, me here. Luis in Orlando is too far to come often (heart problems). Roberto in Philadelphia is ill too. Marisol cannot fly. The geography is what it is. The phone stays alive. The group chat pings. Wepa.

The calabaza soup was for everyone else—Eduardo, Mami, Terrence, the whole Thursday line at the food bank. But with fifty-nine sitting three weeks away and peaches still coming in beautiful at the Park Street market, I wanted to make one thing just for the pleasure of making it. A mascarpone peach tart is not a Caribbean recipe. It is not something Mami taught me. It is something I taught myself, quietly, in the years I have been learning that I am allowed to cook things simply because they are beautiful and I want to eat them. That is enough of a reason.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes (plus 30 minutes chilling) | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 pre-made refrigerated pie crust (or homemade single-crust pastry)
8 oz mascarpone cheese, at room temperature
3 tablespoons powdered sugar, divided
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest
3–4 ripe peaches (about 1 1/4 lbs), pitted and thinly sliced
2 tablespoons peach jam or apricot preserves
1 tablespoon warm water
Pinch of flaky sea salt

Instructions

Blind-bake the crust. Preheat oven to 375°F. Press the pie crust into a 9-inch tart pan with a removable bottom, trimming any overhang. Prick the bottom all over with a fork. Line with parchment and fill with pie weights or dried beans. Bake 15 minutes, then remove weights and parchment and bake another 8–10 minutes until the crust is golden and dry. Set aside to cool completely.
Make the mascarpone filling. In a medium bowl, beat together the mascarpone, 2 tablespoons of the powdered sugar, vanilla extract, and lemon zest until smooth and creamy. Do not overbeat. Taste and adjust sweetness if desired.
Fill the tart shell. Spread the mascarpone mixture evenly over the cooled crust in a smooth layer. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes to firm slightly.
Arrange the peaches. Remove the tart from the refrigerator. Arrange the peach slices over the mascarpone in overlapping concentric circles or a relaxed fan pattern, starting from the outer edge and working inward.
Glaze and finish. Whisk the peach jam with the warm water until thinned. Brush gently over the peach slices to give them a light shine. Dust lightly with the remaining 1 tablespoon of powdered sugar and finish with a pinch of flaky sea salt.
Serve. Serve immediately or refrigerate up to 4 hours before serving. Remove the tart ring before slicing. Serve cold or at cool room temperature.

Nutrition (per serving)

Simple Mascarpone Peach Tart — A Little Something for the Birthday That’s Coming