As a child I watched her making dough and rolling it thin. A lightness of touch perfect for making pies and glorious jam tarts. Over the years I have tried to copy her brilliance with pastry and not come anywhere near her perfection. She said it was her cold hands and mine are too warm to the touch, perhaps.
Perhaps my reliance on gadgets is the problem. I can here a tsk as I chop the shortening into the flour in a food processor and pulse it to a fine crumb. Time savers are my lifeline as I fit my cooking into this hectic chaos I call life. My jam tarts tasted just fine but the crust never felt right to the bite.
Just keep practicing, dear, until you get it right. I hear those words haunting my mind every time I pick up a pack of ready made in the store. Maybe, you are right, Nan, I do need to try again. So tonight, I am making jam tarts supervised by my cat.