Reading back on my earlier blog posts conjures up funny feelings. I wrote in a different, more burbly style, in a voice that undoubtably sounds more teenagery than my current one (although I was sadly, not). The first time I posted this Bakewell Tart feels like an age away. I was still a student, stressed about exams and training for a marathon I never actually ended up running. I was living in the tiniest room in central London, where all my furniture had to be carefully rearranged if I was to attempt to do so much as a push-up. I could hear every word of the intimate midnight conversations of the flat below me. And my neighbours had a propensity for neon pink boxer shorts.
Well now it’s increasingly like Autumn, although I baked these tarts when it was still Summer. I live in a house again, instead of a flat, and I’m sure I would have to shout quite loudly for my neighbours to hear what I was saying indoors. So when I baked this Bakewell Tart again, it was with rather different feelings in mind.
It’s funny that Bakewell Tart should be so very English in nature, when essentially, it’s a frangipane tart (which we think of as being French) with a layer of jam inside. Its so much better with the extra jam though! I had a lack of flaked almonds, which I usually use as a topping. Instead I plopped a handful of raspberries onto each tart, and it worked really well.