Food52
What is it that drives me so nuts about tahini? It could be the nutty smoothness, the slight bitterness, and the sheer richness of the sesame taste, but I think thosw qualities are married to a sense of conquered distaste. When I was a kid, my mother would sometimes try to pass halvah off as a dessert. The refrigerated sesame fudge was a false treat: granular, too thick, and nutty without being truly nutty. It in no way delivered the deliciousness (read sweetness) of a scoop of chocolate ice cream or even a bowl of half melted frozen raspberries in syrup. But like so many things that tasted weird, or too strong as a kid (mushrooms, buckwheat, cows tongue, blue cheese), that sesame flavor from long-ago halvah is now one of my favorites. I have since had really good halvah—made with spun sugar and light as air, almost as sweet as cotton candy. Now I will admit to being something of a tahini junkie. I don’t know how it happened, but somewhere along the way, I just started wondering if I could add tahini to just about everything. Sandwiches, salad dressings, granola, you name it. Michael Solomonov and his Zahav cookbook haven't helped the situation. And so when that first cobbler urge struck me this late winter (it happens whenever rhubarb first appears in the groceries, I once again turned to tahini. Just to make sure I hammered home the sesame point, I added an un-shy amount of sesame seeds to make a rich cookie-ish crust for the sour-sweet fruit filling.
