A Flimsy Excuse to Show Off This French Apple Tart I Just Made

Hi everyone! I won’t lie—pretty much the only reason for this post right now is to show off this French Apple Tart I just made. I’ve realized in the past few years that I have quite the tendency to stress-bake (in no way at all encouraged by my tendency to stress-binge the Great British Bake-Off), and apparently, interestingly, my level of stress seems to be directly proportional to my proficiency in baking. Hooray?

It’s been an odd few months, y’all. Immediately after moving country in the middle of a pandemic, I signed with an agent (!!!), prepared to move with my family into a beautiful seaside house, learned that said beautiful seaside house was riddled with mold and needed tens of thousands of pounds’ worth of repairs, and sold my first short story to a pro magazine, all while spare-mattress-surfing with various relatives. In the words of Matthew Gray Gubler, “I’ve got one foot in the darkness and the other one in a hello kitty roller skate.”

So, I hope you will understand why I’ve posted this today—a flimsy excuse to show off the French apple tart I’ve just made. Because the fact that I have access to a kitchen at the moment, let alone a spare 3 hours (yes, I know, I’m slow, I would never make it on GBBO) to make a French apple tart, is a downright miracle. And I will relish this small victory of mine for as long as I can.

But enough of that. The point is: everyone look at this French apple tart I just made.