Professor Butter Beard and Albrecht Dürer’s “Rhinoceros”
“We do not need more intellectual power, we need more spiritual power. We do not need more the things that are seen, we need more of the things that are unseen.” – Calvin Coolidge
Sight unseen. Maybe the phrase should be “sights asking to be seen.”
“To work magic,” writes the American author Starhawk, “is to weave the unseen forces into form; to soar beyond sight; to explore the uncharted dream realm of the hidden reality.” I am often asked, “How would you ever have thought to combine those unrelated flavors, or contrasting textures, or subtle aromas.” The truth? I dream them. I wake with them dancing in my mind and have to find a way for them to escape and materialize with the help of the sunrise, the oven, Nellie’s ever-watching expectations, and usually, a stick or two of butter.
I’m not alone in this realm of dream realizations. I believe most artists explore avenues to release an inner thought, expression or dream into a shared reality. Albrecht Dürer most assuredly did when he drew a rhinoceros without ever actually seeing one. But I get ahead of myself.
Let’s start with a proper introduction to one of my favorite artists. Albrecht Dürer was a German painter, printmaker, and theorist of the German Renaissance. Born in Nuremberg in 1471, Dürer established his reputation and influence across Europe in his twenties due to his high-quality woodcut prints. He was in contact with the major Italian artists of his time, including Raphael, Giovanni Bellini, and Leonardo da Vinci, and from 1512 was patronized by Emperor Maximilian I. His vast body of work includes engravings (his preferred technique in his later prints), altarpieces, portraits, watercolors and illustrated books. I’m not neglecting his most delicious self-portraits, but those are for another day and recipe.
Historically, Dürer was one of the first artists to display a dazzling virtuosity in all of the printmaking techniques of his time: woodcut, engraving and etching. Prints are distinguished by the possibility of being “reproduced,” that is, the possibility of making mechanically produced multiple replicas. “This was particularly important during Albrecht Dürer’s time,” writes Linda Schädler, “and the artist was adept at using the medium to make both himself and his work well known.” He also always relied on motifs that he had designed himself, and never, unlike many others of his time, reproduced existing artworks.
In May of 1515, a live rhinoceros arrived by ship in Belém, a suburb of Lisbon, and caused quite a social commotion. In modern terms, the beast went “viral.” The shell-shocked animal was a diplomatic gift from India to the Portuguese king, and since such an exotic creature had not been seen in Europe since ancient times, the stir it created sent ripples across the continent. It even captured the attention of Dürer, who immediately set out to design a print of it.
Dürer never saw the animal himself. Instead, he relied on descriptions from a letter which also contained a rudimentary drawing of the rhinoceros. According to Schädler, “He took this drawing as the initial inspiration for his own depiction of the animal, which he then enriched with elements from his own imagination.” In his portrayal, the rhino’s body looks a bit like a set of medieval German armor, even down to the scale texture on the shoulders and legs. The seams of the exterior actually perfectly correspond to those of known Indian rhinos, but the small second horn located between the beast’s shoulders is purely the artist’s invention.
Schädler believes that Dürer had a hunch that depicting this exotic motif in a print would find a ready market. And he was right. His woodcut sold extremely well throughout the continent and was printed in eight editions. She concludes, “His description was so convincing that it shaped European conceptions of the rhinoceros for centuries.”
Well then. I woke from a dream this morning that somehow managed to include Dürer’s beast, green apples, vanilla bean pods, a Buffy-esque mannequin (always frightening) and layers and layers of phyllo dough. Within hours, they all combined (minus the vampire mannequin) to morph into a somewhat German custard tart with apples, toasted almonds and golden raisins all swimming in honey, Greek yoghurt, vanilla and lemon. Starhawk’s unseen forces woven magically into form. Maybe that’s why we dream.
Professor Butter Beard’s Apple, Almond and Golden Raisin Phyllo Tart
10-12 sheets Phyllo pastry, defrosted overnight in the refrigerator
1 cup golden raisins, soaked overnight in water or apple cider
1 cup slivered almonds, toasted
2 large apples, preferably tart
1 tsp ground cinnamon
Juice of one lemon
¼ cup milk
2 tsp cornstarch
1 large egg
1 tsp vanilla paste
2 Tbsp honey
8 ounces Greek yogurt
½ tsp fine sea salt
4 Tbsp unsalted butter, melted
Turbinado sugar to sprinkle before baking
1) The night before, defrost one package of frozen phyllo dough in the refrigerator and soak one cup of golden raisins in enough water (or apple cider) to cover.
2) When ready to bake, preheat your oven to 350 degrees and place a baking sheet on the center rack to also preheat.
3) Toast the almond slices until shiny and aromatic. Set aside to cool slightly.
4) Drain the raisins and slice your apples into ¼” slices. In a medium bowl, toss the apples and raisins with the cinnamon and lemon juice. Set aside.
5) In another medium bowl, whisk together the milk and cornstarch to dissolve. Add the egg, vanilla paste, honey, yogurt and sea salt and whisk to combine. Set aside.
6) Melt the butter and have at the ready. Lightly butter a ceramic baking dish – either a tart pan or pie dish. Carefully unroll the phyllo pastry and brush the top sheet with butter. Lay the sheet in the pan leaving a 3” overhang. Do the same with 9-11 more sheets, working your way around the baking dish and slightly pressing them into the shape of the pan.
7) Sprinkle ¾ of the toasted almonds over the base of the phyllo-lined pan. Give the apples and raisins one more toss and then add over the almonds. Pour the custard over the fruit and sprinkle the remaining almonds over the top. Fold the overhanging phyllo sheets over the filling. Lightly brush the exposed phyllo with the last of the melted butter and sprinkle turbinado sugar over the top of the tart.
8) Bake on the preheated baking sheet for 45-50 minutes, rotating halfway through, until the phyllo is brown and crisp, and the filling has slightly puffed. Remove from the oven and cool on wire rack at least one hour before serving.
