Getting ready for work one morning, I casually inquired about a math midterm test. The older Beastie equally casually answered that she expected a bad grade because she was bad at math. Insert the sound of squealing brakes here to illustrate my WTF moment and the switch to “Excuse me???” mode accompanied by seriously raised eyebrows.
As I was under the impression that “math was really easy”, the nonchalant statement hit me like a super-fast European bullet train. Silly me, I did not have a clue that my seventh grader does not really “get” fractions even though they have been studying and repeating the lessons ad nauseam since fourth grade. And just the day before, I gave her the authority to explain the dreaded fractions to the Younger Beastie, who confessed to “not getting them” (after a semester of her teacher stopping us at the pick-up line at the school to praise her for being in the top of the class in math, this came as a shock).
A dramatic episode ensued, accompanied by inevitable tears and ended with the never too popular, but predictable ban on watching The Simpsons and Degrassi Junior High, until we exorcised the Boogie-man out of fractions. I went to work pretty perturbed, torturing myself and feeling guilty for allowing my bright girls to be “bad at math”.
Besides the obvious benefits of having enough greenbacks to ensure that we get to eat on a regular basis and live in relative comfort, work accomplishes one thing beautifully: it temporarily distracts me from domestic problems and allows me to concentrate on the highly inane tasks of taking care of my customers. But as soon as the car rolls off the restaurant’s parking lot, the distraction ends and and everything I left at home, usually the bad and the ugly, resurfaces with that annoying na-nana-na-na.
Luckily, I do not hold grudges. Enough time elapsed since the morning and the Drama Queen was enthusiastic, full of love for me, and completely out of the OMG-roll-the-eyes attitude. I gathered both girls in the kitchen and asked them to help me make dinner. While neither volunteered to chop the onions and garlic, they were fighting over every other task. I played the mediator, the instructor, and the clown. We stepped over each other’s feet, banged heads, and laughed over every little incident. Anya pretty much single-handedly made cream of cauliflower soup while Zoe handled mashed potatoes (she was especially impressed by the potato ricer). Together they formed the seasoned ground meat patties, rolled them in bread crumbs and pan-fried them, conquering their fear of hot grease. Dinner was a happy affair with the girls excited and their Momma teary-eyed and proud.
Afterwards, instead of retreating to the bedroom with my laptop, I sat on the couch and watched several videos on linear equations with Anya for extra credit in her math class. She was exuberant and full of energy, impatient for the next test where she intended to prove that she was not that bad at math. Our hug before bed was longer than usual. I just melted when I went to their room several minutes later and heard her reading a Harry Potter book to her sister. I silently closed the door trying not to break the spell of sisterly love.
I watched some recorded episodes of my cooking shows, answered some e-mails, caught up on my Google reader and planned meals for the next couple of days. Husband was already blissfully asleep, and even though I should have joined him, I felt awake and full of energy. I could have ironed a pile of dish towels I rescued from grunginess. I could have finally applied Super-Glue to several broken objects patiently waiting to become whole again. I could have sewn buttons and patched the holes in socks the girls assembled after the last room-cleaning. But instead, I decided to bake.
The house was peaceful when I started gathering the ingredients necessary for the Orange-Walnut Tart. I proceeded quietly, enjoying these rare moments of utter silence and stillness, feeling like the only wakeful citizen on the planet. The shortbread crust came together easily. I pressed it onto the bottom and sides of the lightly buttered quiche pan and placed it into the freezer for half an hour. In the meantime I ground walnuts and mixed them with butter, sugar, rum, and tiny amounts of flour and cornstarch to form the cream. Husband bought beautiful blood oranges the day previous for no apparent reason (he does that) which I peeled and cut into segments between the skin that separates them, and they glistened like jewels in various hues of red. I left them to drain while the crust baked and cooled. I poured the cream inside the crust, smoothed it evenly, and laid the orange segments around in concentric circles.
I looked at it reverently, wishing that I did not have to bake it, wanting only to look at the lovely pattern on top until my eyes started hurting. I knew it would be a success because I had licked all the utensils and bowls earlier, usurping the job that belonged to my children since before they could talk. I placed the tart in the hot oven and cleaned the kitchen, feeling the first signs of fatigue. The kitchen was filled with the smell of toasted nuts, warm rum, and browned butter when I took the pan out to cool. Those aromas came with me to bed and tucked me in.
I could not wait to fall asleep and wake up the next morning. I knew that the gloomy cloud would vanish taking away my self-doubts and guilt. Even though I knew that I was far from being done with histrionics and exaggeration, I was armed with new strength that would help me tackle the make-believe monsters hiding in my girls’ math books. They were going to learn all about fractions as the tart was sliced into halves, quarters, and eighths.
The Orange-Almond Tart was this week’s challenge for our French Fridays with Dorie group. For several months we have been making recipes from Dorie Greenspan’s book and writing about our experiences, successes, and failures. Since my schedule at work changed, I have missed several tasks, not having the time to write a post before the deadline, although I cooked almost everything that was assigned.
I used walnuts because Husband is severely allergic to almonds. Blood oranges are in season and their vibrant color contrasted well with the neutral beige of the walnut cream and crust. As I predicted, the flavors of the ingredients in the tart complemented each other very well. I was a little disappointed because the upper parts of the crust browned a bit too much and became harder than I expected (my oven is older and I am convinced that the temperature is not calibrated properly). But in the end I was satisfied with the results.
For more stories and different approaches to this dish, visit our discussion group, and for the original recipe, buy the book – it is truly beautiful.
Lovely post, and great lesson in fractions.
Wonderful story! And your tart looks delicious. I know that often times, I enjoy baking when I’m by myself so I can just get lost in the recipe and completely focus on the preparation.
You are a great mom! We’ve missed your posts, but glad you are back for this one…it is in the favorite category. Walnuts sound like a really good idea. I was thinking of baking the tart again using pears and I think I will try walnuts instead of almonds. Thanks for sharing your creativity.
I remember math! Goodness, I had to work so hard at it. It all seemed so vitally important back then & since finally passing my exams all those many years ago I remember nothing of calculus, con, sin, algebra & all those other weird mathy things! The tart sounds wonderful & that cookbook is at the top of my list, just a little embargo on me purchasing any more cookbooks for the moment!
Draga moja Lana, tako mnogo toga od sebe prepoznam u tebi. Prepoznala sam se u tvojoj priči “Old man and the sea” – tvoj tata podsjeća na mog. Prepoznala sam se i u ovoj priči u tvom odnosu prema kćerima, u tvojoj ambiciji. Mogu razumjeti i orpavdati tvoje nezadovoljstvo kada ti je kćer kazala da ne očekuje dobru ocjenu iz matematike, sigurna sam da bi isto odreagovala na prvu. Mama znaju koliko su njihova djeca sposobna i tu smo da im pomognemo u svemu, da ih ohrabrujemo da postignu najbolje što mogu.
Drago mi je da ste se poslije složile i zabavile pripremajući večeru zajedno…
A pita – oduvjek su je koristili za prikazivanje razlomaka. Prije nego sam znala za razlomke u muzičkoj sam učila kako su podjeljene note i sjećam se da je u čuvenoj Jeli Kršić pita bila podjeljena na polovine, četvrtine i osmine…I još nešto, ne znam kako je bilo tebi, ali ja se sjećam da su mi razlomci predstavljali najteže gradivo iz matematike u osnovnoj, tako da svojoj Zari nisam zamjerila što je zapela na njima prošle godine.
Ah, the delicate balance we must maintain when interacting with girls of a certain age. I do believe a similar version plays out in my house at least once every couple of days (two teenage girls…). Your story rang very close to home. Thank you for the smile!
The creativity that food restrictions engender isn’t such a bad thing, I think. The ground walnut gives the pastry cream such a lovely colour.
I love that you’ll use your tart as a way to teach fractions, and that your girls like cooking with you. Do you find that they’re more willing to try new foods when they’re part of the cooking process? I used to coordinate cooking classes and that seemed to be the case with the kids we worked with.
Also, great idea substituting walnuts for almonds. Maybe any nut could work in the cream. I feel a little silly that I spent money on almond flour instead of just grinding them myself. But I’ll know for next time.
Thanks for the welcome to the group! Looking forward to reading your posts.
Ciao Lana-Your tart looks fantastic! How fun to do baking and math. Math has become challenging here too with my one child. It’s the fun tricks that help them understand it better. Hope you are having a great week. Un bacione!
Lana, that looks beautiful! I also love the idea of blood oranges because they are so visually striking. I really enjoy reading your stories–the way that you tell them is so artistic!
What a gorgeous tart.
@Laurie, we have to use all our resources to teach them while they still listen:)
@Chunklet, I cherish those solitary moments. That’s when I get into the “zone”:)
@Krissy, thanks so much for your wonderfully kind words:) I am glad I am back, too. Looking forward to new recipes. And yes, I agree, pears look very inviting.
@Naši očevi su proizvod nekih drugih vremena i imaju puno zajedničkog:) I ja sam išla u muzičku školu 7 godina i sada mi je baš žao što više ne sviram klavir:( Matematika mi je bila jednostavna sve do srednje škole, kad me više nije interesovala. A sad se kajem! Lepo ti je ime ćerke, Zara, baš mi se svidja.
@Cher, my teenager has flown the coop, off to college:( These two are just embarking on teenage years, and I am ambivalent – looking forward and dreading it at the same time. I know that I will not have an idle moment for several years:) Thanks for smiling:)
@Teresa, I grew up on walnuts and hazelnuts, and LOVE their taste. I don’t feel handicapped by Husband’s allergies – his fruit allergies are the bigger impediment:)
@Jen, I am convinced that kids start liking more diverse food as they start cooking (or growing food themselves). It demystifies the food and they like trying stuff they made. BTW, I always grind my own nuts – I was raised with sacks of walnuts and hazelnuts that needed to be cracked and ground before using:)
@Ciao, Lora! There is always at least one child in the family that needs help with math. But it’s worth every minute. My oldest is in Berkeley and I spent many hours re-learning algebra with her:) Baccio!
@Thanks, professor:) I am looking forward to reading more of your posts, as we are virtually neighbors:)
@Peabody, thanks!
Oh, Lana! Can’t stop laughing! My 13 year old daughter wanted to know what I was laughing at and I read your vivid description of discovering their math issues, both my husband and daughter said “Oh my god! That’s you!” We not only have the same beliefs about maths but also the same coping methods! Can’t wait to take my time and leisurely go through your blog!
My kids are still a few years away from there but I am already mentally preparing myself… in the meantime I also practice my baking
The tart looks delicious.
[...] She loves her daughters and feeds them well [...]