Bakers Put New Twist On Hand Pies..

Remember Pop-Tarts? If you recall those ubiquitous, jam-filled, cardboard-textured relics of childhood, they've likely left a bad taste in your mouth. But while the execution of the preservative-filled treats was lacking, the idea remains a good one. And that has not escaped the attention of some chefs, who are reinventing the classic little hand pies as haute-tarts, encasing organic artisanal jams and savory pumpkin-sage mixtures between squares of flaky, tender pastry and serving them up in swanky hotels, luxe patisseries and casual cafes alike. At Trace in San Francisco's W Hotel, the breakfast menu includes a Kadota fig-filled tart with lemon glaze. And Tender Greens, the fresh,seasonal cafe that opened in downtown Walnut Creek, Calif., last year, the haute-tarts range from savory to sweet, including a s'mores tart and one filled with fresh blueberries and finished with an eye-popping violet glaze. The trend is easy to understand, pastry chefs and bakers say. These riffs on Pop-Tarts tap into our deepest, most nostalgic longings for childhood-while satisfying our grown-up palates. Besides, they're adorable. "There's something intensely magical about homemade pop tarts," says Alana Chernila, the Massachusetts author of "The Homemade Pantry Cookbook" {Clarkson Potter, $24.95, 288 pages}. "They appeal to the kid in everyone." The only problem is, the commercial Pop-Tarts of our youth were made to withstand travel by lunchbox and backpack, not to mention trips through the toaster. They are Sturdy, with a capital S-and sturdy is not a word you ever want to associate with pastry. So when Kim Laidlaw, the San Francisco author of "Williams-Sonoma Home Baked Comfort" {Weldon Owen, $34.95, 224 pages} took a trip down memory lane and bit into the cherry Pop-Tart that had been her childhood fave, her taste-memory collided with reality. Badly. There was just one thing to do. Make her own toaster-style tart. Some bakers, such as Sarah Billingsley and Rachel Wharton, authors of "Handheld Pies" {Chronicle Books, $19.95, 144 pages}, go the classic pate brisee-the classic butter-rich pie dough-route, and fill them with orange marmalade and mascarpone, or tomatoes, mozzarella and prosciutto. Others opt for the puff pastry direction. Executive chef Sean Canavan, who left San Francisco's Bluestem Brasserie, last spring to take over the top slot at Tender Greens, calls his dough "an in-between, a blitz puff pastry where you intentionaly leave streaks of butter in your dough, which later on form your layers." And just because the childhood classic calls for rectangles covered in nonpareil sprinkles doesn't make the parallelogram a requirement. The little tarts are every bit as delicious when they're cut into circles, hearts or triangles. "People have always made hand pies," Canavan says. And the small size has an added advantage: one pastry, many different flavors. Also key: exerting a little self-control as you fill them. "It's a balance. You want a good crust-to-filling ratio, but don't get overzealous," Chernila says. Seal them patiently, using a fork to crimp the edges securely. But beware the toaster-a really lovely pastry crust lacks the structural integrity of a tough, sturdy one. "You're making pie, and everything is good in pie," Chernila says, "That's a rule."