This time of year brings Seville oranges to the markets in Paris. For the past few years, I kept wondering why they were so hard to find since it’s perhaps my favorite of all jams and jellies to make, and eat. But lately, they’ve been everywhere.  And I found myself busy making a lot of marmalade, which was easier since I came up with a brand-new, revolutionary technique which I couldn’t wait to share.

Since Seville oranges are rife with seeds, which makes slicing them difficult since you have to keep moving the seeds around with your slippery fingers, while trying to cut the oranges, then finding more, and fishing around deeper inside to extract more, plucking them out, etc… Each Seville orange has perhaps twenty to thirty inside.

So I thought, what if I was to squeeze the juice and seeds out first, strain them, then pour the juice back in? The seeds are precious commodities in jam-making, and get saved and used since they’re so high in pectin.

They’re wrapped in a sack and cooked with the marmalade giving the marmalade gets a suave, jellied texture. And this simple method, featured in my book Ready for Dessert, makes the whole process much easier.

You might be interested to know that Seville Orange Marmalade was created because of an error. Apparently, an Englishwoman in 1700, the wife of a grocer, was stuck with some sour oranges that were bought cheaply from a boat that was carrying them from Seville.

Since there was a storm, they wanted to get rid of their stock or oranges quickly, so the grocer bought them. But they were inedibly sour so his wife decided to try making jam from them, and viola!…Seville Orange Marmalade was invented.

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Seville Orange Marmalade

Adapted from Ready for Dessert (Ten Speed)

In my book, I advise letting the cooked oranges and the seeds rest overnight. That's an optional step. If you want to go ahead and finish the marmalade the same day you start it, you can.

Course Breakfast

Keyword confiture, jam, marmalade, orange

Ingredients

• 6 Seville oranges (see Note)
• 1 navel orange
• 10 cups (2.5L) water
• pinch of salt
• 8 cups (1.6 kg) sugar
• 1 tablespoon Scotch (optional)

Instructions

• Wash oranges and wipe them dry. Cut each Seville orange in half, crosswise around the equator. Set a non-reactive mesh strainer over a bowl and squeeze the orange halves to remove the seeds, assisting with your fingers to remove any stubborn ones tucked deep within.
• Tie the seeds up in cheesecloth or muslin very securely.
• Cut each rind into 3 pieces and use a sharp chef’s knife to cut the rinds into slices or cubes as thin as possible. Each piece shouldn’t be too large (no more than a centimeter, or 1/3-inch in length.) Cut the navel orange into similar-sized pieces.
• In a large (10-12 quart/liter) stockpot, add the orange slices, seed pouch, water, and salt, as well as the juice from the Seville oranges from step #1. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer, and cook until the peels are translucent, about 20 to 30 minutes. (At this point, sometimes I’ll remove it from the heat after cooking them and let the mixture stand overnight, to help the seeds release any additional pectin. But it's not imperative.)
• Stir the sugar into the mixture and bring the mixture to a full boil again, then reduce heat to a gentle boil. Stir occasionally while cooking to make sure it does not burn on the bottom. Midway during cooking, remove the seed pouch and discard.
• Continue cooking until it has reached the jelling point, about 218ºF degrees (103ºC), if using a candy thermometer. I cook this slightly less than other jams and marmalades because the high amount of pectin helps the marmalade set up more stiffly. To test the marmalade, turn off the heat and put a small amount on a plate that has been chilled in the freezer and briefly return it to the freezer. Check it in a few minutes; it should be slightly jelled and will wrinkle just a bit when you slide your finger through it. If not, continue to cook until it is.
• Remove from heat, then stir in the Scotch (if using), and ladle the mixture into clean jars. Sometimes I bury a piece of vanilla bean in each jar. (Which is a great way to recycle previously-used or dried-out vanilla beans.)

Notes

I don’t process my jams, since I store them in the refrigerator. But if you wish to preserve them by canning, you can read more about the process here.

Apparently I’m not the only one who loves polenta cake. The Italians like it so much that it’s called Amor Polenta. Which means “Polenta Love.”

Well, at least that’s what I thought it meant, because amour in French means “love.” And I assumed that it was the same in Italian. (Another reason for finally getting on that life-long ambition to live in Italy and learn Italian.) But for now, checking in an Italian dictionary, I found out that “amor” means “sake.” (As in, for the purpose of.) So I’m not sure how it got its name, but this cake makes a pretty good argument for the sake of whisking polenta into a cake.

I’m one of those people who is completely crazy for anything with cornmeal, from corn bread to even a kind of kooky polenta ice cream that I’m sure no one else has ever made, because I used a completely obscure polenta that very, very few people can get their hands on. But I felt compelled to make it, for the sake of using up a little bag of that polenta that I had.

Fortunately, polenta is available just about anywhere. I like to buy stone-ground polenta, which has a crunchier flavor. But you could use instant polenta for this cake, normally something I avoid. But I found myself with a bag of it and was looking for ways to use it up. And here’s where the rest of it landed.

Like many Italian cakes, which are unlike American cakes, this is not a buttery bomb of richness. True, there is butter and a few eggs in there. But the great flavor comes from ground almonds, which tend to make the cake much moister the following day as the nut oils soak the crumb, which is one of those baking terms (unlike amor) that pretty much seems to be what it is talking about. The polenta adds a bit of a savory quality to desserts, which draws me to use it a lot when baking.

This cake is a great snacking cake and I tend to walk around my apartment several times during the day, somehow landing frequently near the cake, where a serrated knife just happens to be stationed alongside. Ready and waiting to lop a slice off.

In addition to a collection of polentas, I found myself with a collection of eaux-de-vie on hand. Some were gifts, others were picked up on my travels. A few are anise-based, which pair nicely with polenta, and chocolate. I have a ginger one that is great when summer fruits are in season, like peaches, nectarines, and apricots. And the long bottle in the front right, the eau-de-vie of lees that I got in Switzerland, after I found out how good raisins in lie (eau-de-vie made from leftover grape yeast, and other stuff that falls to the bottom of wine vats post fermentation) was, after gorging on cauldrons of fondue.

As astute readers can see from the fill line of the bottle, that project never came to fruition. (I’m too busy trying organize my polentas and eaux-de-vie. And plotting a way to live in both Italy, and France.) But I did add a few shots of orange liqueur (not shown), which gave it a little boost of flavor. Not enough to be perceptible. But like that bag of instant polenta I’ve had for a few months, I was always conscious that it was there. You can use any kind of liqueur that you want – maraschino, limoncello, absinthe, kirsch, or even anise liqueur.

As much as I like this as a snacking cake, it can be dressed up with a fruit compote. I sectioned some tangerines, navel oranges, and pink grapefruits, drizzled a little honey over them, and served them alongside the cake. I had planned to spoon some warm sabayon over the cake and fruit, but decided that I had too many other things to do. Namely, get cracking on using some of those bottles of liqueur that I’ve been hoarding.

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Orange-Glazed Polenta Cake

For this cake, using fine-ground polenta or instant polenta will result in the smoothest texture, although whatever is available will work. I’ve made it with coarse polenta too, and enjoy the crunch. Almond flour is available at specialty stores, Trader Joe’s, and online. If you can’t find it, grind 7 1/2 ounces (215 grams) sliced blanched almonds in a food processor with the flour until the almonds are pulverized. Although cakes like this don’t always need adornment, I did glaze it with a dribbly orange glaze that firms up and gives the top a citrus-scented fruity crunch. For those wanting to skip the liqueur in the cake, you can leave it out and increase the almond extract to 1 1/4 teaspoon. For the glaze, you replace the liqueur with orange juice.

Ingredients

For the cake

• 8 ounces (225g) unsalted butter cubed, at room temperature
• scant 1 cup (180g) sugar
• zest of 1 lemon
• 3 large eggs at room temperature
• 2 tablespoons liqueur or eau-de-vie such as orange liqueur (Grand Marnier or Cointreau), kirsch or grappa
• 3/4 teaspoon pure almond extract
• 3/4 cup (125g) finely ground polenta plus additional for preparing the pan
• 2 cups (215g) almond flour
• 6 tablespoons (55g) all-purpose flour
• 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder preferably aluminium-free
• 1/2 teaspoon salt

For the glaze

• 1 1/4 cups (170g) powdered sugar
• 1 tablespoon orange juice
• 4 teaspoons orange liqueur (such as Grand Marnier or Cointreau)

Instructions

• Butter a 9-inch (23cm) loaf pan. Dust the inside with polenta, and tap out any excess. (Note: The pan I used has a nonstick finish. If you want to make sure the cake comes out nicely you may want to cut a rectangle of parchment paper and fit it into the bottom of the pan after you prepare it, especially if using an unfinished loaf pan.) Preheat the oven to 350ºF (180ºC).
• In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the butter, sugar and lemon zest at medium-high speed, until it’s light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. (You can also make this in a large bowl, beating the butter and sugar by hand.)
• Add the eggs one at a time, stopping the mixer after each addition to scrape down the sides of the bowl. Mix in the liqueur and almond extract.
• In a medium bowl, whisk together the polenta, ground almonds, flour, baking powder, and salt, until there are no lumps. Gradually mix the dry ingredients into the creamed butter mixture, just until well-combined. Do not overmix.
• Scrape the batter into the pan, smooth the top, and bake the cake until it is golden brown on top and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out almost clean, perhaps with just a few crumbs attached, 45 to 50 minutes. Let cool on a rack for about 30 minutes, then run a knife along the outside of the cake to loosen it from the pan and tip the cake onto the rack. Let the cake cool completely before icing.
• To glaze the cake, mix the powdered sugar with the orange juice and orange liqueur until the glaze is thick, but still runny – not too watery, but as thick as a milkshake. If necessary, add a bit more sugar if it’s too thin, or add a bit more liquid if it’s too thick. You can try smoothing a bit over the cake to see if it’s the right consistency for drizzling and dripping down the sides before glazing the entire cake.
• Spoon the glaze over the cake, encouraging the glaze to run down the sides by nudging it towards the edges with the back of the spoon or a metal spatula.

Notes

Serving: When the glaze has firmed up, serve slices of the cake with a favorite fruit compote, such as fresh citrus segments, caramelized pineapple, poached pears, or sliced and sugared peach slices (peeled) or nectarines.

Storage: The cake will keep for up to five days, if well wrapped, at room temperature. The cake will be noticeably moister the day after baking due to the oil in the nuts. It can be frozen for up to two months.

Related Recipes and Posts

Baking Ingredients and Substitutions

Cornbread with Harissa Butter

Polenta Crisp Topping

Simple Polenta

Cornmeal Cookies

Cornmeal Biscotti

Not everyone thinks of citrus fruits as “winter fruits.” But that’s when oranges, grapefruits, tangerines, tangy lemons, and enticing limes are often at their peak. And that’s a good thing because there’s nothing that brightens up any season – but especially winter – better than a classic French lemon tart.

Any bakery in Paris will have a Tarte au citron on offer. Some are on the sweet side, others tart. I like my lemon tart, well…tart, for sure and when I search for lemons at my market, I choose the plumpest, juiciest ones I can find. Fortunately, good lemons are available just about anywhere, so anyone can make this tart. Most of us don’t even have to wait until winter!

I juiced my lemons, cracked some eggs, and got to work on the tart.

For the base, I used Paule’s pastry dough, which is so easy to make and hasn’t failed me yet. It’s delicious and buttery, and goes particularly well with the delicious lemon topping.

I cooked the filling, a sunny, luscious lemon curd, on the stovetop with the fragrant zest of the lemons, then poured the warm filling through a strainer to make it as smooth as possible.

 One could pipe whipped cream on it or top it with meringue. To do so, let it cool and spread or pipe whipped cream over the top or serve a dollop alongside. If you want to give a go at meringue, check out my Lime Meringue Tart recipe or the marshmallow topping that I use on my Pumpkin Pie with Marshmallow Topping.

Both are delicious, but just as it is – or as the French say, nature – is just fine with me.

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Lemon Tart

I recently updated this recipe to increase the amount of filling and I dialed down the sugar a bit due to frequent questions about reducing sugar in recipes. You can taste the filling in step 3 and if you'd like it sweeter, add up to 1/4 cup (50g) more sugar If you find that you have a bit too much filling for your tart shell (they seem to vary), any remaining lemon filling that you don’t use can be spread on toast, fresh biscuits, or scones. You could substitute fresh lime juice for the lemon, and if you have Meyer lemons, reduce the sugar to 1/2 cup (100g). You can use a favorite tart dough recipe, or the one I’ve linked to.

Ingredients

• 1 cup (250ml) freshly-squeezed lemon juice
• grated zest of two lemons preferably unsprayed
• 3/4 cup (150g) sugar
• 12 tablespoons (170g) butter salted or unsalted, cut into cubes
• 4 large eggs
• 4 large egg yolks
• One pre-baked 9-inch (23cm) tart shell

Instructions

• Preheat the oven to 350ºF (180ºC).
• In a medium-sized non-reactive saucepan, heat the lemon juice, zest, sugar, butter, eggs and egg yolks. Have a mesh strainer nearby.
• Stir until the butter is melted, then whisk the mixture continuously until the mixture thickens and holds its shape when you lift some of it up with the whisk and it visibly mounds up when dropped back down over the rest of the mixture in the saucepan. It should just take a few minute.
• Pour the warm lemon curd though a strainer into a bowl (or directly into the tart shell), scraping with a rubber spatula to press it through.
• Smooth the lemon filling in the prebaked tart shell and pop it in the oven until the curd is just set. It’ll take about 5 to 6 minutes.
• Remove from the oven and let cool before slicing and serving.

Related Links

Recipes to Use Up Leftover Egg Whites

Lemon Verbena Ice Cream

Moroccan Preserved Lemons

Tips for Freezing Eggs

What is non-reactive cookware?

There’s a lot going on when you write a cookbook. You begin with an idea, then spend a year or two testing and developing recipes. Once the first draft is done, it goes through a developmental edit where the editor gives feedback on what you’ve done so far and offers up changes, ideas, or things to reconsider.

After you’ve implemented those (or not), it then goes to a copy editor who checks grammar and spelling, as well as scans the recipes for omissions or gaffes, such as forgetting to say when to add an ingredient, and checks your metric conversions. I’ve seen more and more books lately that also credit an “Americanizer,” who presumably takes on that last task, since conversions are a big lift. I kid you not. I’m pretty sure I could write two cookbooks a year if we all used the same system of measurement.

The book then goes to a production editor, who makes sure everything is in the right place, then to a proofreader. (Not all publishers do all these steps. Mine does.) During the process, cookbook authors often send recipes to testers to give the recipes a go and get feedback. Some authors have people develop recipes but I give a tester the finished recipe and get feedback on that.

If the book is going to be photographed, food stylists generally make the recipes for the photos, although in some cases, the author does. (Which I’ve done.) But it’s a very big job organizing and planning the shoot, then gathering all the ingredients and making everything, which is especially challenging if you plan to shoot five different photos a day. Then there’s the cleanup afterward.

I was fortunate to have George Dolese and Elisabet der Nederlanden working as a team on my book since there were a lot of photos to shoot in 2 1/2 weeks. That’s a very long shoot, but my publisher wanted a lot of photos so we, along with photographer Ed Anderson, delivered.

George arrived with a 7-inch (18cm) thick notebook, and I was startled to see how organized he was. We’d corresponded a lot before he came to Paris, and he asked me what he should bring from the U.S. I said parchment paper circles, natural cocoa powder, Lazzaroni amaretti cookies (why can’t we get those here? Romain has been devouring the leftovers…), almond paste, and chocolate chips — among other things.

When George and Elisabet arrived, armed with massive shopping lists, I took them to a Grand Frais supermarket outside of Paris. For some reason there are no Grand Frais supermarkets in Paris, but they have a remarkable selection of everything, including aisles and aisles of every kind of fruit you can imagine, as well as a massive cheese aisle, a butcher, and shelves of nuts and baking ingredients.

I also took them to Metro, a membership-only store that requires you to have a resale license. Elisabet is a particularly avid baker and went a little nuts in the baking aisles. She was especially wowed by all the various sugars available in France, from dark, moist cassonade (cane sugar) to crunchy pearl sugar.

Food stylists are invariably pros at cooking and often give valuable feedback if they run into any issues with the recipes. To be honest, food stylists do a better job than most of us can to make food look good for the camera. No one working on cookbooks uses fake food or anything like that, although when shooting pictures for the first edition of Room for Dessert (I was the food stylist on it), which became Ready for Dessert, I couldn’t find Concord grapes for the pie since it wasn’t grape season. A food stylist friend suggested that since it was only for a photo, I should use black olives. I used regular grapes instead and zhuzhed them up with some grape jelly for color.

Once the book is laid out and designed, with everything in place, the publisher sends a PDF of the book to the author to check and make sure everything’s A-OK. Then it’s off to the printer, and when you get the final book in your hands, you notice that tablespoon in one recipe is spelled “tablespooon.” (Which happened to me in another book.)

As the great Maida Heatter called them, “gremlins” get into cookbooks, no matter how hard you try to keep them out. Also, as someone who likes to tinker with recipes, I sometimes find different ways to make them. Books also have limited space, so it’s nice we have the internet to fill things in, as I’m doing here.

Ready for Dessert Recipe Notes & Errata

Here are some additional notes about the recipes, including a few tips on baking times, a little errata the thickness of a cookie recipe, and an bonus recipe, that’s on the cover of the book.

– For the Easy jam tart (page 121), if the dough is a bit too sticky to press into the pan, put the pan with the pastry in it in the refrigerator or freezer for a few minutes to firm the pastry up.

– When making the Peanut butter and jelly linzertorte (page 103), if the ropes that you’re rolling by hand to place over the top break, it’s ok to place the pieces on top of the tart and simply pinch them together. They’ll bake up beautifully. While a lattice topping is traditional on linzertorte (which is really a tart), baker Jessie Sheehan suggested that the dough could be crumbled over the top of the tart, which I’m going to try the next time I make it.

– For the Panna cotta recipe (page 161) you can reduce the amount of sugar to 1/4 cup (50g), and you can omit the cinnamon and lemon zest if you want them with those flavorings in them.

– For the Croquants (page 251), yes, the batter is measured out in teaspoons, one per cookie, which is the measurement in the book. It makes cookies the size they are in France, the cookies in the photo on the left. (It doesn’t seem like a lot of batter when you are making the cookies, but the batter spreads as it bakes.) You are welcome to make them larger, like the cookies on the right. You may need to increase the baking time another minute or so, until they’re toasty brown across the top.

– For the Pâte à choux recipe (page 276), the yield will vary depending on the size you pipe the dough. You may get twenty puffs if you pipe them larger, which is fine!

I also like to play with the temperature of the oven, depending on how I feel that day. Life isn’t always cut-and-dry, and neither is pastry dough. And as I’ve said before, recipes aren’t set in stone. If they were, cookbooks would be very, very heavy.

While the baking temperature in the first printing of the book has you baking the puffs at 425ºF (220ºC), I’m wondering if that’s too high for people? I like my puffs very crispy so that’s fine with me. But if yours are getting too dark for your taste, you can take them out before the recommended baking time. Similarly, you don’t need to keep them in the turned-off oven for 5 minutes after baking.

Another way I prepare pâte à choux puffs is to bake them in a 425ºF (220ºC) oven for 5 minutes, then turn the oven down to 375ºF (190ºC) and bake them until they’re golden brown. You can see the difference here:

When baking, always use visual clues to check for doneness, rather than strictly adhering to a baking time. When I baked professionally, we used a timer to remind us that something was in the oven. We never relied on it to tell us when something was done.

– When rolling out the dough for the Orange poppyseed sandwich cookies (page 246), the dough should be rolled 1/4 inch (6mm) thick, rather than the 1/2 inch in the book. I find the baking time of 12 minutes is just right for me, but if you like the cookies a little darker, I did a test at 14 minutes, shown below:

In the book, I gave a chocolate and chocolate-hazelnut options for filling the cookies, if you’d prefer to do that instead of using jam. But you can also fill them with Salted butter caramel sauce (page 283) that’s cooled until it’s thick and spreadable. And in place of poppyseeds, you can use very coarsely ground black or white sesame seeds instead. Or leave them whole! You’ve got options.

-For the Palets Bretons (page 243), a magazine published the recipe with a baking time of “25-35 minutes.” After I developed the recipe, they were tested (again) here in my kitchen when the food stylists made them for the photo in the book. After the magazine published the recipe, one of the food stylists retested them in his kitchen in California and found the baking time in the book to be correct (see above.) But if your oven is different, just bake them until they’re golden brown across the top.

-The yield on the Seville Marmalade recipe (page 299) says it makes 8 cups but depending on various factors, you may get less. Also you don’t necessarily need to let the oranges rest overnight in the liquid. It does help the pectin work its magic, but it’s not obligatory.

– I’ve been playing with the Butternut squash pie (page 96), which is a great holiday treat. Some have said that it makes a bit too much filling for the dough. I recast the recipe so there’s no leftover filling, and you can get that here.

Sharp-eyed readers might notice the profiteroles on the cover of the book, from Grand Brasserie in Paris, have a layer of craquelin over the top. So I thought I’d share a recipe for chocolate craquelin.

This recipe is based on my craquelin recipe, which I retoggled to make them chocolate. You can get the chocolate craquelin recipe here.

Enjoy!

I’ve never been a huge fan of sticky buns because I find many of them teeth-screamingly sweet. That said, these dial down the sweetness in favor of flavor, courtesy of two of my favorite things: pecans and maple syrup. And having the two swaddled in a butterscotch-like caramel seems to make each one taste even better than they do on their own.

I was intrigued by a new baking book, The New Sugar & Spice by Samantha Seneviratne, whose subtitle promises recipes for “bolder baking,” which immediately caught my interest. I don’t need to wow me with innovation – tweaking classics is often good enough. The wheel can only be reinvented so many times and no need to repair something that doesn’t need fixing.

It’s unfortunate that I am hooked on both, and like other expats, maple syrup and pecans are two things that we tend to hoard. Sirop d’érable (maple syrup) is available in Paris, the best bottles are sold at natural food stores, and pecans are around, although I often find them not quite at their freshest by the time they’ve hit the store shelves. So I lug those back with me. Fortunately, on occasion, I’m treated to bags by visiting friends and guests. Thank goodness I now have an American-sized freezer.

Well…to be honest, I used to hide them in the freezer, but since I’m a compulsive nibbler, I was getting tired of teething on frozen pecans. So I gave up and started keeping them in a drawer, which means easier access to these precious beauties.

Sticky buns are very easy to make. You start with a simple yeasted dough, softened with milk. Once it rises, you strew the rolled out dough with a mixture of brown sugar and cinnamon. Then comes the fun part: Rolling them up!

The doughy roll then gets sliced into spiraled wheels. Watching them rise in the pan – then rise even further in the oven, is one of the great joys in life. Eating them, of course, is the best part. But if you’ve got kids (or even a middle-aged man, like me), this is a really fun project for a weekend or during a holiday break.

While I was making these, I posted a live video on Snapchat, which is a fun way to share short videos that I’ve been playing around with. The downside is that I got so involved with shooting and sharing that I neglected to chop the pecans before using them, as you can see in the pictures. On Snapchat, posts and videos disappear after twenty-four hours – so when it’s gone, it’s gone! But you can follow me on Snapchat for other tips, future videos and a soupçon of occasional goofiness at davidlebovitz.

As much as I’m freaked out by new technologies, the old ones tend to vex people, too. Folks get freaked out by candy thermometers, but if you use one, you can get your caramel precisely to where it should be. I “went rogue” and didn’t use one, and my sticky buns got a touch too dark, which I liked for the “on the edge” flavor, but resulted in a sticky bun glaze that was less-runny that what some might be used to. So if you have one, you should put that candy thermometer to use when making these sticky buns.

The result of my morning of baking was a tray full of sticky buns that were great for a mid-morning snack but not bad for bringing to a meeting later that evening, which I did. The next day, people raved about them. I’ve got a few other “bold” recipes bookmarked from Samantha’s gorgeous book. And I’m going to make sure my stock of pecans doesn’t run too low, because I’ll be making these again in the near future.

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Maple Pecan Sticky Buns

Adapted from The New Sugar & Spice by Samantha Seneviratne

The original recipe calls for baking eight spirals in a 9-inch (23cm) round pan, but I wanted to get nine smaller ones, so used an 8-inch (20cm) square pan and cut the rolled up dough into nine disks. You can do either. Note: Do not use a springform pan for this recipe. Because of the maple caramel, the pan may leak. Even if you wrap it well with foil, caramel may seep out and you don’t want the lovely maple-accented glaze on foil. You want it on your sticky buns.The original recipe also called for a mix of walnuts and pecans, and I opted for all pecans since they’re one of life’s great luxuries to me. But you can swap out any nuts as you wish. There was also 1/2 cup (80g) of raisins added to the caramel along with the pecans, which I omitted as well, although you’re welcome to add them, or another dried fruit, like cranberries or sour cherries.You’ll also note the recipe calls for bread flour. Its higher protein content means that you’ll have better gluten formation and sturdier bread, or buns, as in this case. Most well-stocked supermarkets carry it or you can buy it

. You can replicate it by replacing 1 1/2 teaspoons of all-purpose flour with 1 1/2 teaspoons of vital wheat gluten, per cup, or 140g, of all-purpose flour. (In France, I use T65 organic flour and add vital wheat gluten, which is available in natural food stores.)

Course Snack

Ingredients

For the dough

• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter cubed
• 2/3 cups (160ml) whole or lowfat milk
• 3 tablespoons granulated sugar
• 1 3/4 teaspoon active dry yeast
• 1 large egg
• 2 1/2 cups (320g) bread flour
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher or sea salt

For the topping

• 6 tablespoons (3 ounces, 85g) unsalted butter
• 1/4 cup (45g) dark brown sugar
• 1/4 cup (60ml) maple syrup (dark amber)
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher or sea salt
• 1 cup (140g) pecans lightly toasted and coarsely chopped

For the filling

• 1/4 cup (45g) dark brown sugar
• 2 tablespoons ground cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher or sea salt
• 3 tablespoons (1 1/2 ounces, 42g) butter salted or unsalted, at room temperature

Instructions

• To make the dough, warm the butter, milk and sugar in a small saucepan. Pour into the bowl of a stand mixer and let stand until slightly tepid. (You can make this without a stand mixer. If so, pour the milk mixture into a medium bowl.) Sprinkle the yeast over the milk, stir gently, and let sit in a warm place until it starts to bubble, about 10 to 15 minutes.
• Mix in the egg, flour, and salt, and knead with the paddle or dough hook at low-to-medium speed until smooth and elastic, about 5 minutes. (If kneading by hand, it may take a bit longer.) Knead the dough a few times with your hand until it’s a smooth ball, place it back in the bowl and cover the bowl with a kitchen towel. Let rise in a warm place until doubled, about 1 to 1 ½ hours. Time can vary, and it may take longer, or less time.
• While the dough is rising, make the topping. Lightly butter a 9-inch (23cm) round or 8-inch (20cm) square cake pan. Heat the butter, brown sugar, maple syrup and salt in a small saucepan fitted with a candy thermometer and cook over medium heat until the mixture comes to a boil. When it gets foamy, after a minute or so, when a few of the bubbles start to get larger, remove from heat. (Samantha notes in her book that if using a thermometer, the temperature should read 212ºF (100ºC).
• Pour the maple caramel into the prepared cake pan and strew the pecans over the caramel. Set aside.
• To make the filling, mix the brown sugar, cinnamon and salt in a small bowl. Set aside.
• When the dough has risen, knead the dough a couple of times on a lightly floured countertop and roll it into a 10-inch (25cm) square. Spread the softened butter over the dough and sprinkle evenly with the filling mixture. Roll up the dough as tightly as possible and using a serrated knife, cut the dough into 8 or 9 slices. If using a square pan, cut into 9. If using a round pan, cut into 8. Place them in the pan with the cut side up. Cover loosely with plastic wrap or a clean, lint-free kitchen towel, and let rise until almost doubled, about 1 hour.
• Ten minutes before you’re ready to bake the sticky buns, preheat the oven to 375ºF (190ºC). Place the pan of sticky buns on a baking sheet lined with foil (to catch any overflow drips or spill) and bake until the center roll is lightly browned on top and it doesn’t feel soft when you press it with your finger, 25 to 30 minutes.
• Remove the rolls from the oven. Let cool for 5 minutes then run a knife around the outside (if possible, as the buns may have overtaken the rims), then tip the sticky buns out onto a cooling rack or serving platter.

Notes

Serving and storage: Sticky buns are always best served warm, and the day they are made but are fine the next day. If you wish, you can keep them well-wrapped for a few days, rewarming them in a low oven, wrapped in foil until heated through. They can be frozen for up to two months.

Related Posts

Ingredients for American Baking in Paris

Ingredient Ingredients and Substitutions

Vegan Sticky Buns (Minimalist Baker)

Gluten-Free Sticky Buns (Faithfully Gluten-Free)

I was recently reunited with something I miss very much – a loaded apple tree! Friends of mine who had a house in the French countryside had a tree that, come fall, had so many apples, the limbs threatened to break off. Not wanting to be an accomplice in apple-cide, I decided to do my part to save the tree, and the apples, and make Apple Jelly.

Ten years later, my friends sold their house, which ended my bounty of apples (and medlars.) So how happy was I when some other friends bought a house in Brittany, which had not one, not two…but four apple trees. Score!

The varieties were Reine de Reinette, Canada, and Boskop, which I found out when a concerned neighbor saw someone (me) swiping apples off the trees, and the ground, loading up sacks of them. I think he figured I was pilfering the pommes, but was reassured when I told him I was friends with the owner of the mini-orchard.

After talking with him a few minutes, I realized he was an expert on the apples and not only knew about the varieties of apples, but also what to do with them and nodded in approval when I told him I was going to make Apple Jelly. He was happy to help me fill some bags, which included green varieties, which are high in pectin and help the jelly set, and are more acidic than other apples, which make the jelly well-balanced and delicious. (Calvados, the famed apple brandy from Normany, use very acidic apples since the flavor is more pronounced once cooked.)

To make Apple Jelly, it’s probably a good idea to either a friend with an apple tree (with an explanation ready in case a neighbor comes by…) or get apples from a source where they might sell you apples that are dented or dinged, which are called pommes à cuire (cooking apples) in France, and are quite popular. At the markets, those apples are usually the first to get sold as people use the bargain beauties to make compotes and tarts with. And French bakers like to use a variety of apples in dessert, like Apple Cake, as the flavor is more interesting than if using just one variety.

In the end, I came home with over 50 pounds (23kg) of apples in all shapes, colors, and conditions. And all went to a good cause. This recipe uses a good deal of apples but makes a half-dozen jars, which is good if you’re anything like me and need to reward your friends, and perhaps a local apple expert, with a jar of jelly.

Print

Apple Jelly

While some sources say to National Center for Food Preservation cook the apple jelly to 220ºF (104ºC), every time I've made this, it jelled at around 230ºF (110ºC). So it’s best to use a thermometer but also to test your jelly by dropping a dab on a chilled plate, putting it in the freezer for a few minutes, then checking to see if the mixture has jelled by nudging it and seeing if it mounds and wrinkles, as shown in the post. If you don’t have a candy thermometer, you can use the "nudge" method to test your jelly. One pound (450g) of apples cooked will yield about 1 cup (250ml) strained juice from the cooked apples. So if you have fewer apples, or you get a different yield (since all apples are different), you can use that as a guideline and add 3/4 cup (150g) sugar and 1 1/2 teaspoons of lemon juice per cup of strained apple juice. You can easily halve this recipe, too. Note that in step #3 depending on the size of your strainer or colander, you may need to use two, as I do. One tip is when putting the apples in the strainers if you can't get them all in, after filling them up, let the mixture sit 5 to 10 minutes; it'll settle down and compress, and you should be able to add the rest after that.

Servings 6 jars, 1 cup (250ml) each

Ingredients

• 8 pounds (3.75kg) apples
• 10 cups (2.25L) water
• 6 cups (1,2kg) sugar
• 1/4 cup (60ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
• 2 teaspoons Calvados brandy, or Cognac

Instructions

• Rinse the apples and cut them coarsely into chunks, then put them and the cores and seeds, into a very large stockpot.
• Add the water, cover, and bring to a boil. When bubbling, reduce the heat a bit, leave the lid askew, and cook for 20 to 30 minutes, until the apples are tender and cooked through.
• Line a mesh colander with a piece of muslin cloth or a few folds of cheesecloth (or use a jelly bag and stand) and set it over a deep bowl, then ladle the apples and the liquid into the colanders. (I use two lined colanders since it was quite a bit of apples.)
• Let stand or at least 3 hours (but you'll get more juice if you let the apples drain around ~8 hours), and during that time, no matter how tempting it looks,

  do not press down

  at any time on the apples to extract more juice or the jelly will get cloudy.
• The next day, measure out the juice. You should have about 8 cups (2L) but may get a little more. Pour the juice into a large, non-reactive pot fitted with a candy thermometer, add the sugar and lemon juice, and bring to a boil. During cooking, as any white foam forms on the surface while the jelly is cooking, gently skim it off with a ladle. (See Note at the end of the recipe for some idea about repurposing the apples and the foam.)
• Cook until the temperature reaches 220ºF (104ºC). At that point, turn off the heat and begin testing the jelly on a chilled plate in the freezer, using the method mentioned in the headnote. When it wrinkles and holds its shape, it’s done. If not, continue to cook and re-test it at intervals. This batch set at 230ºF (110ºC).
• Remove from heat, stir in the liquor, and ladle into clean jars, then cap tightly.

Notes

Storage: I don’t preserve my jelly or jams in heat-treated jars because I eat them quickly, but store mine in the refrigerator where they’ll keep for several months. If you wish to preserve them, you can find instructions for canning at the University of Georgia website.

Notes: The cooked apples can be passed through a food mill and used as applesauce, or for Chewy Oatmeal Raisin Cookies, Nonfat Gingersnaps, or my favorite Granola recipe.

Any foam scraped off the top of the jelly while cooking can be refrigerated or frozen, and added to your next batch of jam. It's especially great used in jams made with low-pectin fruit, such as strawberries, apricots, peaches, pineapple, or cherries.

Related Recipes and Links

Les Jars

Apricot Jam

Seville Orange Marmalade

Easy Jam Tart

Bergamot Marmalade

No-Recipe Cherry Jam

Rhubarb-Berry Jam

Beer, Shallot, and Cocoa Nib Marmalade

I’ll be at AXS design, one of my favorite shops in Paris, celebrating the release of Ready for Dessert on Sept 30th from 5:30 to 7pm.

AXS is filled with treasures, including French dinnerware, glasses and linens, and lots more. They were kind enough to lend me some of their beautiful items for the photos in book, so I’m thrilled they’re hosting the book launch and signing. Books will be available for purchase and I’ll be on hand to personalize them for you.

Thanks to Comté for providing samples of French cheese for the event.

See you there!

It’s that time of the year again. When bakers, cooks, and even bartenders, are baking, roasting, and shaking things up for the holidays. Here’s a round-up of recipes from my blog, my personal favorites, that are great for Thanksgiving and winter holiday fêtes. There are cakes, cocktails, spreads, dips, candied nuts, cheesecake, ice cream…and more!

Pecan Pie with Bourbon and Ginger

What’s more traditional than pecan pie for the holidays? (That wasn’t really a question, because most of us already know the answer.) I love this zippy variation, with a triple dose of ginger and a belt of bourbon to boot. It’s especially good with a scoop of white chocolate-fresh ginger ice cream.

Pumpkin Marshmallow Pie

Swoops of billowy marshmallows over a custard-like pumpkin filling. For those vexed by weeping meringues, this stable, silky topping is the answer to your pastry prayers!

S’mores Pie with Salted Butter Chocolate Sauce

Speaking of marshmallows, if you’re looking for the ultimate do-ahead dessert, it’s hard to beat this marshmallow-topped beauty. Even if you’re not planning to make the pie, the Salted Butter Chocolate Sauce makes anything you put it on a thing of beauty.

Manhattans

Manhattans are my go-to cocktail. The foundation is just two ingredients, so they’re hard to screw up, which is easy to do with so many other holiday distractions. Even better, they do the job, coming together in a great, no-nonsense, high-performance cocktail. To dial ’em up for the holidays, add a few dashes of cardamom bitters or pumpkin bitters to the mix.

Cranberry Sauce with Candied Orange

Bits of homemade candied oranges provide a sweet/tart counterpoint to tangy cranberries. I stock up on cranberries for the holidays when I see them in Paris, but those stateside will want to get extra to make this sauce again and again. It’s good with ham, turkey, lamb, and a nice counterpoint to roasted root vegetables. You can also use it when building yourself a hefty turkey sandwich out of leftovers the next day.

Cranberry Sauce with Figs and Red Wine

Use some of that leftover wine to ramp up this holiday sauce, marrying two fall favorites; cranberries and figs. No leftover wine? Pas de problème: open a bottle. (I’m sure you’ll find something else to do with the rest…)

Cranberry Upside Down Cake

A buttery base holds up a toffee-like topping of cranberries. This cake is oh-so-good on its own, but a dollop of whipped cream (perhaps flavored with cinnamon or with lemon curd folded into it?) takes it to the next level. It’s also good with a scoop of cinnamon or vanilla ice cream, melting on top or alongside.

Pumpkin Cheesecake with Pecan Praline Sauce

I’ve been making it for well over a decade and can’t resist the praline sauce that accompanies it. It’s spiked with – yup – a belt of bourbon, and loaded with toasted pecans. Cheers!

Pumpkin Maple Flan

One of my favorite people, Ina Garten, provided the inspiration for this flan, a layer of creamy pumpkin custard bathed in a slick layer of dark caramel.

Cranberry Shrub and Cocktail

Start the holidays off right with this tangy shrub, a vinegar-berry elixir that’s great mixed with sparkling water for a non-boozy libation, or as a base for a bourbon-fueled cocktail. I’ve given options for both, which should please everybody at your holiday fête.

Pumpkin Jam

If the idea of pumpkin jam sounds funny to you, it helps to remember that pumpkins are actually fruits. And if that doesn’t do it, take a taste of this jam with just a hint of vanilla. It won over my Frenchman, who is my toughest critic. (And boy, do I have stories!)

If you’re the kind of person who sets out a plate of cheese (and those are the only kinds of people that I want to dine with), guests will love a swipe of this over a cracker smeared with chèvre (goat cheese) or cream cheese, or paired with slabs of nutty Jarlsberg, Comté or Gruyère as part of a cheese board. Don’t forget the nuts and dried fruit, too.

Chocolate Orbit Cake

This cake got its name because it launches chocolate-lovers into orbit. But it’s also an amazing do-ahead dessert, and keeps for quite a while in the refrigerator, which gives harried hosts and hostesses some time to enjoy an extra Manhattan, or two…  ; )

Pumpkin Ice Cream

It’s that time of year when you may want to keep your ice cream maker handy at all times, so you can churn and scoop up your favorite flavors. (If you’re a fan of The Perfect Scoop, this year marks the ten-year anniversary of the book, and there’s an updated edition with all-new photos and a bunch of new ice cream recipes.)

To reimagine the classic profiteroles for the holidays, swap out the vanilla ice cream with pumpkin ice cream, and replacing the chocolate sauce with the pecan praline sauce I noted above (that goes with the pumpkin cheesecake), or another favorite creamy caramel. Top them off with the French almonds from The Perfect Scoop; Heat 2 tablespoons of water with 2 tablespoons of sugar in a skillet, stirring until dissolved. Remove from heat and mix in 2 cups (160g) sliced almonds. Spread the coated nuts on a nonstick baking sheet, or one covered with a silicone mat, sprinkle with flaky sea salt, and bake in a 350ºF/175ºC oven, stirring once or twice while baking, until golden brown and crisp, about 20 minutes.

Persimmon Bread

What to do with all those persimmons? This loaf cake is moist and packed with flavor, with a hint of spices. It’s a favorite from James Beard, considered the dean of American cooking, and I think it’s time to upgrade his status to include baking.

Sweet Potato and Apricot Cake

This light cake comes from my friend Alice Medrich, and is low fat, but if you’d like, you can take it in another direction and top it with cream cheese frosting. Either way, this is a great cake.

Red Wine Pear Tart

I’m always amazed when I turn out this tart. The glistening, ruby-colored pears are so pretty I almost hate to cut it. But moments later, I’m glad that I did. Along with a spoonful of nutty crème fraîche, this riff of the classic tarte Tatin will get no arguments from traditionalists. And if it does, find less judgmental dining companions.

French Apple Cake

For the love of Dorie Greenspan comes this French apple cake, which relies on a mèlange of apples for its fruit-forward flavor.

German Apple Almond Cake

Our friends in Germany are mighty fine bakers as well and this cake from Luisa Weiss provides a generous wallop of apple flavor to any dessert buffet in each moist wedge. Almond paste is the secret to this cake and it’s worth stocking up on a tube or tin of it now – or several – so you’ll have them handy later.

Chocolate Pecan Pie

Circling back to pecan pie, this is another favorite recipe on mine, loaded with big chunks of bittersweet chocolate, who hold their own in a crowd of pecans.

Cranberry Raisin Pie

I reached deep into my past to find this pie, which was a favorite of the late Marion Cunningham. If you don’t have time to peel a bushel of apples, simply mix up a sack of cranberries and raisins, and voilà…you’ve got a fruit pie that will be just as memorable as Marion.

Quick Mincemeat

Traditional mincemeat has a dubious reputation, but this one will change your mind. I promise. Bits of candied orange, dried fruits, and festive spices meld together into a tasty mixture that can be added to apple pie or pear crisp, making it go from ho-hum…to oh boy!

Israeli Couscous with Butternut Squash and Preserved Lemons

Hitting the savory side, this side dish is one of the most popular in my repertoire. The squash is a no-brainer for the winter, but swap out dried cranberries for the raisins and you’ve got a holiday-friendly side dish that’s a break from the usual mash-up of carbs. Another bonus: This can be made in advance and rewarmed before serving.

Cheese Ball

Proving it’s not too late to get on the ball, I tackled this cheese ball made with several kinds of cheeses, along with chives, dates, and a dash of hot sauce, rolled in buttered and salted pecans. If you’re too high up on your horse to consider a cheese ball, Fromage forte is the way the French use up all those scraps of cheese, whipped up with plenty of garlic. It’s great to spread on slices of baguette, or even crisp apples.

Gougères

The French do have their version of cheese “balls.” These puffs are lighter-than-air and baked to a crisp. No one can resist nibbling on these, especially if you serve them warm.

Spicy Pretzel and Nut Mix

I cast a skeptical eye over recipe titles that promise something to be “the best,” but in this case, I’m going there. This is The Best Cocktail Snack Ever. A crunchy mix of salty pretzels and lots of nuts, baked in a maple syrup, brown sugar, and butter mixture until crisp. You’ll want to print this recipe out and put it at the top of your appetizer recipe roster.

Artichoke Tapenade

In a hurry? Don’t worry, who isn’t? I don’t mind opening a can of artichoke hearts and putting my food processor into service, for this Provençal-inspired spread. Do-ahead types will appreciate that it holds well in the refrigerator (ditto with the next tapenade recipe), and guests will appreciate how good it tastes spread on croutons or crackers, along with a glass of sparkling wine or Chablis.

Olive Fig Tapenade

This olive-based tapenade isn’t the pits. In fact, it’s even better than the usual tapenade because there’s less pitting involved, getting an extra boost from dried figs, whose natural sweetness compliments the salty olives and capers. I was inspired by this one from Carrie Brown of the famous Jimtown Store in Northern California.

Candied Peanuts

Looking for the perfect hostess gift? Instead of tying a bow around a bottle, make a batch of these candied peanuts and give them instead. I keep a stack of cellophane bags and raffia ready, to tie ’em up and give them out. Someone once told me that anyone can buy a gift; it’s the homemade ones that really show that you care. If that’s the case, feel free to make a batch for yourself as well. Sharing may be caring, but being selfish has its rewards, too.

It’s almost ready!

Coming this Fall is the new, completely revised edition of Ready for Dessert: My Best Recipes.

[It’s now available at ==> Bookshop, Amazon, Barnes & Noble and at the links below.]

When my publisher told me they wanted a new edition of the book, I decided to revise the book completely, from top to bottom. Ready for Dessert is a compilation of my favorite recipes, so I knew that I wanted to keep my signature Chocolate chip cookies, the Chocolate-cherry biscotti accented with black pepper, and classic Black & white cookies, along with everyone’s favorite, the Fresh ginger cake, as well as a tangy Lemon semifreddo, and the recipe for the Coconut layer cake I made for Alice Waters’ father on his birthday every year.

Order Ready for Dessert now!

To sweeten the pot, I added brand-new recipes to Ready for Dessert, favorites culled from my kitchen in Paris, including Île flottante (inspired by the version I always order at a favorite local bistro), a very special Riz au lait (rice pudding) topped with crunchy, candied nuts and salted butter caramel sauce, buttery Palets Breton cookies, and my version of the iconic, and irresistible (truly!), Maple tart from Tapisserie in Paris, the pastry shop of the highly-regarded restaurant Septime, so you can make it at home.

Award-winning photographer Ed Anderson, who photographed my books, My Paris Kitchen, Drinking French, and The Perfect Scoop, returned to Paris to shoot the pictures for the book, in my kitchen and backyard, as well as out-and-about in the city. Another bonus was that I got to work with two of my favorite food stylists, Elisabet der Nederlanden and George Dolese. We had a blast shopping in Paris for ingredients, and making the recipes in my kitchen, then eating them as well.

When the food stylists end up devouring your recipes during a photo shoot, that’s the highest compliment a cookbook author can have. They bake and cook food all day long, so are picky about what they eat. (And boy, did they eat!) I also invited friends to come by and join us, so you’ll find guests shots in the book as well.

The all-new edition of Ready for Dessert is now available at your local independent bookseller and online.

Below are some bookstores and online retailers where you can order the book:

| Amazon | Bookshop.org | Now Serving | Barnes & Noble | Omnivore | Book Larder | Kitchen Arts & Letters | Bold Fork | Books are Magic | Amazon France | Powell’s
| RJ Julia | Strand | Smith & Son Paris | Amazon UK | Archestratus | Politics and Prose | Vivienne Culinary Books | Book Passage | Elliot Bay | Village Books | East End Books | Indigo Canada | Amazon Australia | Shakespeare and Company Paris |

There’s a certain ease and simplicity to free-form tarts like this. Sometimes they’re called a crostata, sometimes a galette. You can call it whatever you want, but I call it a fast way to use great fruit when it’s in season, without a lot of fuss.

At the beginning of summer, when rhubarb is still lingering around, and strawberries are elbowing their way forward, it’s a good thing the two go so well together. And I’m happy to help them hook up.

I remember a neighbor had a big rhubarb plant in their backyard and we used to dip the raw stalks in a cup of sugar and eat them. (Somehow, we knew not to eat the leaves, which are toxic.) I still remember, not just the fact that you could get free food from the earth, but that something could have so much flavor. Some kids aren’t fond of things that are tangy but I’ve always loved the contrast of sweet and tart.

Recently I was so excited to find such beautiful berries that I bought three big baskets of them. I made a little batch of Strawberry Rhubarb Jam, and another batch of Strawberry Vodka, both of which I hope will prolong the season…unlike this tart, which lasted not so long around here.

I first learned to make tarts like this from Jacques Pépin, when he came to work with us and began his shift by rolling out dough for fruit tarts. He actually double-doughed his tarts, rolling out two rounds of dough, and sandwiching the fruit between the two.

Being French, he brushed the top with lots of butter and liberally dusted the top with sugar. Today I usually make them open-faced, but do brush the crust with lots of butter and a generous sprinkling of sugar, which makes a crunchy crust, and is a nice contrast to the tender fruit-forward filling.

When I posted a picture of this tart on social media, with a promise to share the recipe, a friend, Ann Mah, asked me how I dealt with all the juice from rhubarb, which can exude a moderate amount. Hothouse rhubarb is generally redder in color and holds its color better than field-grown rhubarb once baked. However, I’ve never found much of a correlation between if it’s grown indoors or out, and how much juice it exudes.

That said, as insurance, I sprinkle the dough with a little bit of almond flour to absorb any errant juices. But I don’t mind things being a little bit messy; a friend’s Norwegian grandmother once told me that if pie doesn’t fall apart when you slice it, it’s not going to be any good. This tart slices nicely but tastes great. So you’re getting the best of both worlds here, in more ways than one.

Print

Strawberry Rhubarb Tart

I often sprinkle a little almond flour on the tart dough, to soak up any extra juices that may come out of the fruit when it's baking. You can use cracker or bread crumbs, crumbled amaretti cookies, a bit of flour, or leave it out. For those who want to reduce the sugar, feel free to cut the sugar in the filling down to 1/2 cup (100g). For another variation, you could swap out fresh pitted cherries for the strawberries, or mix a basket or two of raspberries or blackberries with the rhubarb, in place of the strawberries. This tart is sometimes called a galette or crostata and is baked free-form. It could also be baked in a tart pan as well. Be sure to cover the baking sheet well if using parchment paper, to catch any juices that may run out during baking. I used an unrimmed baking sheet for this one but use a rimmed one if you want to make sure you're containing any errant juices.

Servings 8 servings

Ingredients

For the tart dough

• 1 1/2 cups (210g) flour
• 1 tablespoon sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup (4oz, 115g) unsalted butter cubed and chilled
• 6 tablespoons (90ml) ice water

For the filling

• 3 cups (13oz, 380g) diced rhubarb (trimmed and cut into 1/2-inch, 2cm pieces)
• 2 cups (10oz, 300g) strawberries hulled and quartered
• zest of 1 lemon preferably unsprayed
• 2/3 cup (130g) sugar
• 1 1/2 tablespoons corn starch
• 2 tablespoons almond flour (optional)
• 1 - 1 1/2 tablespoons melted butter
• turbinado or granulated sugar for finishing the tart

Instructions

• To make the tart dough, mix the flour, sugar, and salt in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. (You can also make it in a food processor, or by hand, using a pastry blender.) Add the cold butter and mix until the butter pieces are the size of peas.
• Add the ice water and continue to mix just until the dough comes together. Gather the dough with your hands, shape it into a disk, wrap it plastic, and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.
• Put the rhubarb and strawberries in a medium bowl with the lemon zest. Sprinkle the sugar and corn starch on top, but do not mix the ingredients together yet. (If you do, they'll start to juice and may be overly juicy by the time you're ready to use them.)
• Preheat the oven to 400ºF (200ºF). Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a silicone baking mat.
• On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough to a 14-inch (36cm) circle and place it on the baking sheet. Sprinkle the almond flour over the tart dough, if using. Mix the fruit together with the sugar and corn starch and place the fruit into the center of the tart dough, then spread it with your hands, leaving 3-inch (8cm) of space between the fruit and the edge of the dough.
• Fold the edges of the dough up and over the fruit filling. Brush the crush liberally with melted butter and sprinkle with sugar. Bake the tart until the filling is cooked and bubbling, and the crust is golden brown, 35 to 45 minutes. Remove from the oven and slide the tart off the baking sheet, onto a cooling rack.

Notes

Serving: Serve the tart on its own, or with Vanilla Ice Cream, White Chocolate and Fresh Ginger Ice Cream, or Cinnamon Ice Cream, or a dollop of crème fraîche.

Storage: The unrolled dough can be refrigerated for up to three days, or frozen for up to two months. The baked tart is best the same day but can be stored at room temperature for up to two days. (The dough will get softer the longer it sits.)