And a wiser man, bearing a tart, came from the West…

..guessing that the three other “wise men” coming from the East were probably from Hackney or Dagenham, which meant that they would be bearing gifts such as incense sticks, from Frank’s Eastern Cashbar (sic – very) that smell like a camel’s private parts, although unfortunately camels are not noted for keeping any of their parts private, bundles of bling and a partridge in a myrrh tree, felt that he had a little something definitely more acceptable to a hungry single Mum and babe that, owing to over confidence  on Joseph’s part – “No need to ring ahead, there’s always room at the inn” – were now located, and starving hungry, in a nearby animal rescue home. The partridge didn’t smell good after a trek across the Sinai desert which left one of our Eastern wise arses with a bunch of myrrh twigs which, since they represent “gathering doom”, was never going to be a welcome gift. It didn’t take long for the lone wise man from the West to move to the front of the queue – not quite the front, as the bling was quite tempting, but second was good for a man bearing a tart. To be honest, a phrase I’m starting to use too often which means that lies fall from my tongue as regularly as years from Joan Collins’ age, the tart on offer was pure gold. In no time at all the Virgin – a likely tale, but say nothing – wanted more than a slice, she wanted to know how to make it, and being wise, the man from the West told her. First make some good sweet pastry……. peel and core some apples and stew them with sugar and vanilla to make a puree……lay the puree on the pastry and cover with thinly sliced apples, sugar and cinnamon…and cook in a hot oven for 25 mins and, with a pastry brush, cover with a sticky layer of molten home made apricot jam. West is West and East is East, and the right one I have chose, but don’t bet on it, this is Roger speaking…..


About Food,Photography & France

Photographer and film maker living in France. After a long career in London, my wife and I have settled in the Vendee, where we run residential digital photography courses with a strong gastronomic flavour.
This entry was posted in baking, Cooking, Digital photography, Food and Photography, Food photographer, photography course, Recipes, tart, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

26 Responses to And a wiser man, bearing a tart, came from the West…

  1. Ha, ha. I’m still chuckling over the camel and private bits. Love the look of this tart.

  2. Mad Dog says:

    Camel comes from the West (Shepherds Bush Market) – I know, I’ve eaten it!
    Beautiful pictures and tres chic rolling pin 😉

  3. Wonderful pictures, marvelous recipe.

  4. Impressive. Especially about the homemade apricot jam.

  5. Oh god, camels do stink. You bought back memories of Morocco with the mention of camels. Anyhow, I´d have preferred this gorgeous tart to a stick of myrrh any day 😉

  6. Fabulous post today.. full of myrrh.. myrth.. mirth.. I’ve never sniffed a camel’s private parts, but can imagine… I can also just imagine sniffing this lovely tart.. what a heavenly recipe:) xo Smidge

  7. argone says:

    I like apple tarts, all kinds … great shots !

  8. katyarich says:

    I just love this recipe, thank you to share.

  9. ChgoJohn says:

    Such a clever read, Roger, and that tart you’ve prepared borders on perfection. So, moving to the other extreme of Tartdom, and since you broached the topic, just how old is Ms. Collins?

  10. Tandy says:

    surely, the tart here is the best smelling of them all 🙂

  11. spree says:

    What a clever bit of writing, and what a gorgeous tart. That golden apricoty glaze so unexpected, but so brilliantly beautiful.

  12. discovervin says:

    Looks fantastic – will have to make one soon, much better than camel bits or myrhh twigs

  13. Kenneth Hope says:

    Very amusing Roger- I love your writing.

  14. Kenneth Hope says:

    Rog I just read your last post and I see that I should not use the word “love” would “enjoy greatly” be okay ?

  15. Frankly, I think your version of the Christmas story is probably as close to the reality of the occasion as any, and if I were hanging about in a stable with any beasts, newborn or otherwise, I’d welcome a goodly slab of such a lovely tart like it was, well, the Second Coming.

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