Vielen Dank, Catherine Barton

It all began with a baking sheet.  My dear friend Emily was having a virtual Pampered Chef party, and I took the opportunity to spoil myself with this lovely little metal dreamboat.  I vowed that I would search tirelessly for ways to use this sheet and make it worth every penny -- and with a son like Liam, who is willing to try anything Mommy makes for him, I knew this vow would be an easy one to honor.

On a recent adventure visiting our PA family, we discovered that Liam has a bit of a thing for Fig Newtons.  Being the Suzy-Homemaker-On-Crack kind of mom that I am, I knew I could concoct a version for him at home.  After all, I've already figured out how to make Thin Mints (those sneaky little Girl Scouts can stop robbing me, thank you very much), so what's so scary about a fruit-filled little cereal pocket?  I did some snooping on the Internet and through some old cookbooks for inspiration, and being my mother's daughter, barely followed any of the recipes I came across (but thankfully wrote down what I did).

So the first time I made these damn things, I swore more nasty oaths than Zeke has ever heard me say in one evening, and I think at one point he said he was fearing for our lives.  It's a frightening moment for any man when he sees his wife cursing bakery items (typically a woman's best friend, right?).  I cried tearless fits of frustration as I tossed sticky wads of fruit-laced dough into the trash can and felt that horrible desperation in the pit of my stomach... you know, that one you feel when you think you might actually fail at something you thought would be as simple as an ink blot test.  This baking event was not looking good at all.

And then it happened.  Seven hours after I ventured into Fruit Barton territory, something clicked.  My hands and brain started working in concert, and I was able to create these beautiful, delicious, hearty, burst-in-your-mouth explosions of wonderful yumminess.  Folks, if you want to try these at home, I strongly urge you to read through the MOP carefully and completely before diving into these waters.  It helps to visualize the entire process before starting anything this crazy.  

Five batches later, I feel like I could make Fruit Bartons in my sleep.  Liam LOVES them, and they're a nutrition-packed handheld snack for all ages.  And if you use a good baking sheet like my Pampered Chef number, you're guaranteed they'll bake evenly and turn out gorgeous every time.

Oh, I bet you're wondering how my version of Fig Newtons became Fruit Bartons.  First off, I don't use figs.  But I have used different combinations of prunes, strawberries, raspberries, mangoes, and blueberries in my trials; ergo, "Fruit."  As for the "Barton" part -- well, I can't in good conscience call these "Newtons" since I'm making them myself and I figured Sir Isaac Newton might take insult if I just cast his name about like that.  They don't taste quite like the packaged morsels; they're more like a close relative of the Newton.  Turns out Sir Isaac Newton's closest relative was his half-niece Catherine Barton, a young woman whom he adored and cherished.  From what I've learned of her, she seems a worthy namesake for my little baked goodies.  And, between you and me, I think mine are prettier and much more exotic, as I think we would agree Miss Barton was in comparison to her half-uncle Sir Newton.
  

**Aside:  While I assumed Newtons were named for Sir Isaac Newton, they were supposedly named for the town in which their creator resided -- Newton, Massachusetts.  Neither is the city named for Sir Newton; it was originally named Cambridge, incorporated as Cambridge Village, then renamed Newtown and finally Newton in the late 1700s.  Interestingly, Sir Issac Newton received his education in Cambridge, England, so maybe it all comes full-circle anyway...

Many thanks, Catherine Barton.  Or as I'll be saying in Germany, Vielen Dank!

FRUIT BARTON RECIPE:

Ingredients:
Dough
1 c whole wheat flour
1/2 c wheat germ
1 1/2 c AP unbleached flour
1/2 c dark brown sugar
1/2 t kosher salt
3/4 t baking powder
3/8 t baking soda
1/2 t cinnamon
12 T cold margarine (or 1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter, softened and cut into pieces, if you're one of those baking purists... but trust me, the margarine works like a charm)
4 eggs, divided

Filling
2 c fresh, frozen, or dried fruit (figs, prunes, strawberries, blueberries, mangoes, peaches, apples, what have you)
1 c acidic juice (orange or an orange blend)
1/2 c apple juice
1/2 c prune juice
1/2 t cinnamon
1/2 T apple cider vinegar

MOP:
Dough
1.  Combine and sift the dry ingredients in a mixing bowl.
2.  Cut in margarine/butter pieces until the dough looks sandy.
3.  Whisk 3 eggs together and add to the dough; mix to combine.
4.  Form dough into a ball, wrap in plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 2 hours.

Filling
1.  Combine all filling ingredients in saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until liquid is absorbed by the fruit and the mixture is thick (will take at least 2 hours).
2.  Let filling cool slightly, then puree in food processor until smooth.
3.  Refrigerate until ready to assemble Bartons.

Barton Assembly
1.  Preheat oven to 375F.  Get out your rolling pin.
2.  Make an egg wash (whisk remaining egg with 2 t of water) and keep handy.
3.  Flour countertop or other smooth surface for rolling out the dough (be serious about this whole flouring process -- a "light dusting" is completely ineffective).
4.  Cut a piece of plastic wrap about 12" wide and set aside.
5.  Take fruit filling and dough out of fridge; unwrap dough and cut off a hunk (maybe 1/2" wide).
6.  Roll up little dough hunk into a ball and place on floured surface; lay your reserved piece of plastic wrap gently over the ball.
*7.  Roll dough out to 1/8" thickness and approx. 4" wide using rolling pin -- TIP:  apply gentle pressure, use smooth strokes, keep the plastic wrap smooth between the dough and your pin, and say silent prayers to the dough angels.
8.  Spoon filling down the length of the dough -- just right of center -- avoiding the top and bottom 1/2" of dough.
9.  Paint around the edges of the dough with the egg wash; fold dough over (be careful not to squish out the fruit filling) and press to seal.  If you're ballsy enough, trim the edges with a knife to make a nice, clean look (just don't cut too far in or your filling will spew forth like The Blob).
10.  Place Barton "tube" on greased (or parchment-lined) cookie sheet.  Press down on tube very gently to flatten it a tad.
11.  Repeat with remaining dough and filling, making sure to keep surface floured.
12.  Pop cookie sheet into oven and bake tubes until light golden brown -- about 15 minutes.
13.  Let cool completely, then cut with a sharp knife into 1" Bartons.  Try not to eat them all at once.