I cook, a lot. Which means I buy a lot of food in high hopes of cooking feasts. Feast that never get cooked in the face of work, cleaning, reading books and being in a relationship. This means that I inevitable get stuck with food that is one step from rotting. Then in a panic I rush around trying to assemble the ingredients into something yummy. Sometimes I fail, sometimes I succeed.
This week was success. Working with a few peaches, a basket of blackberries, butter, vanilla beans and some pie dough I threw together a peach & blackberry tart. I rolled out the pie dough and put it on a jelly roll pan lined with parchment. Next I piled on the blackberries and in an attempt to hide my deaths door peaches I arranged them fancy like on top. I folded the edges of the dough up and over and brushed the whole thing with a whole stick of butter combined with the scrapings of a vanilla bean. Baked it at 425 for 30 minutes and viola, dessert. I ate the hell out of that thing to assuage the guilt of almost throwing out a bunch of fruit.