[Marie is in her kitchen, assembling ingredients and reviewing the appropriate pages of Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking to prepare the Custard Apple Tart. Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major streams from Pandora.]
Marie: I have reviewed the recipe, purchased the ingredients, and assembled all the things. I even poured a beer to enjoy as I cook. I’m ready!
Marie: [Reads aloud Step 1 of the Custard Apple Tart Recipe on page 637] Use the sweet short paste on page 633 for the pastry shell. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
Marie: [Preheats oven. Turns to page 633.]
Marie: [The recipe lists “Amounts Needed” as follows:
“For an 8- to 9-inch shell, proportions for 1 ½ cups flour.”
“For a 10- to 11-inch shell, proportions for 2 cups flour.”
Then, “Proportions for 1 cup flour” with the actual recipe to follow.]
Marie: [Asking a friend] Does this mean that I’m to adjust the recipe by adding .5 for everything since I have a 9-inch pan?
Friend: This is nuts. I have no idea. I’ll read it some more.
Friend:I believe you adjust the recipe amounts to 1.5. So you’ll use 1 cup flour and 1.5 cups sugar.
Marie: This is why I don’t use Julia’s recipes more. They make me crazy. I adjust everything, right, not just the flour?
Friend: Adjust fats by .5 also. Urgh!
Marie:I can’t do math! Damn you, Julia!
Friend:Blahhh – why butter AND shortening?
Marie: 1 ½ T shortening x .5 is…2.25 T shortening?
Friend: 2 T and 1 tsp. Unless you have a quarter tablespoon measure. A teaspoon is about a third of a tablespoon.
Marie: Don’t round. Must be precise. I need the math.
Friend: Urk. 2 T plus .75 tsp.
Marie: Argh. I got 2.25 T. Is that the same thing?
Lisa: I think so?
Marie: All I can think of is my remedial math teacher in college intoning, “fractions never go away.”
Lisa: I hate that teacher! But, he is right.
Marie: [Mixes dough. Does baking things.] Seriously? The dough has to chill in the freezer for an hour. Guess I’ll turn the oven off.
Friend: Oh, fer…
Marie: I’m assuming that the “freezing compartment of the refrigerator” is the freezer, yes?
Marie: Or, the dough can be refrigerated for two hours or overnight. That’s right, two hours, or tomorrow. There is no in-between, apparently.
Marie: [reviews instructions for making the dough] It says to “place the flour in the bowl, mix in the sugar and salt, and then proceed to make the dough …” Make the dough? That’s the instruction? It’s like being on the technical challenge of the Great British Baking Show.
Marie: [Looks up instructions for making the dough on page 140]
Marie: [Reads aloud the instructions for making the dough in a food processor. She is not making this up.]
Measure the dry ingredients into the bowl. Quarter the chilled sticks of butter lengthwise and cut crosswise into 3/8 inch pieces; add to the flour along with the chilled shortening. Flick the machine on and off 4 or 5 times, then measure out a scant half-cup of iced water. Turn the machine on and pour it all in at once; immediately flick the machine on and off….
Marie: [Stops reading, because that is insane.]
Marie: [Reviews how to make dough with her hands.]
Place the dough on a lightly floured pastry board. With the heel of one hand, not the palm which is too warm, rapidly press the pastry by two-spoonful bits down on the board and away from you…
Marie: Forget this, I’m just going to knead the dough.
Marie: [Reads instructions}
“Then press the dough firmly into a roughly shaped ball. It should just hold together and be pliable but not sticky.”
Marie: What if it IS sticky, Julia? What, then?
Marie: [Rolls the sticky dough into a ball, wraps it in waxed paper as directed, and places it on a plate in the refrigerator for two hours, but not overnight, having not felt confident on the meaning of the “freezing compartment of the refrigerator.”]
Marie: [Finishes beer and wonders what she got herself into.]
[End of scene, End of Act I]
[After a walk outdoors to rethink her culinary choices, Marie is back in the kitchen, attempting to roll out what she hopes will pass for dough. The only sound is that of her despair.]
[Six hours later…]
Marie: I have a tart! It’s pretty and it tastes good. Also, I am never doing this again.
[End of scene, End of Act II, End of Play]