Tag: France

Perfect for your Pik-a-nic Basquete

See what I did there?  No?  You will.

My mom came out to visit (and escape the interminable Montana winter) in late March.  We had lots of adventures and general shenanigans.  As someone who gets up even earlier than I do (an impossible feat according to TD), she spent some quality time perusing my little cookbook collection.

One of the recipes she pulled was for a gateau Basque out of Dorie Greenspan’s Around My French Table.  Sadly, this was during our “oven transition” and so my mom had to wait until her return to the Big Sky to try out this cookie-cake-pie recipe.

“You’ve got to make this” she said some weeks later.

“Sure mom, okay” was my reply and then, like most negligent children, I immediately forgot.

“Did you try out the sour cherry tart?” was her question the next time we spoke.

“Err…uhm…just waiting for the new oven to be installed,”  my excuse.

And so it came to pass that after a batch of French macarons and some chocolate chip cookies for TD, gateau Basque was the third item baked in the oven.

Have I ever mentioned that while probably the nicest lady on the planet, my mom is also the most evil?   This is a good example.  Under the pretext of encouraging baking experimentation, she bullied me into bringing this…this…temptation into my house.  Don’t let its simplicity fool you like it did me.  I got all the way to photographing this disk of sin without tasting its rich–soft–toothsome–tartness.  People find this hard to believe, but I generally am not all that interested in eating the things I make.  Baking and cooking for me is about short-term gratification in the creation and experimentation categories.

But in this case?  I was like Eve to the apple (or whatever you’d like to argue the parable referred to).  One bite.  And then another.  And, before I knew it, I’d eaten the entire wedge and found myself eyeing the remaining six (TD ate one too).  While significantly more sophisticated and elegant, there is also something about the gateau Basque that reminds me of the Hostess pies my brother and I coveted as children.   Which I think got me thinking this would be a perfect picnic dessert.  Transport it uncut and then serve up the wedges to be eaten by hand.

Original sin and evil parents aside, according to Dorie, this is the pastry in the Pays Basque region of France (and probably Spain).  There is even a museum dedicated to it (do I hear research junket?).  As if this lovely pastry isn’t enough to create drool-worthy geography, you can visit the region virtually through my talented friend Ann Mah.

While it is traditionally made with sour cherry jam (I found mine at Trader Joes) or pastry cream, I think it would be fantastic with everything from lemon curd to Nutella (which would certainly elevate this seductress from Old Testament to Dante’s Inferno).

A design note.  The top of the tart is traditionally etched with two interlocking scroll, or “S” designs.  Since Dorie said she likes a cross-hatch pattern, I tried that.  Sadly I did not make the pattern deep enough and it baked out.  I guess this means I’ll have to try again.  Darn.

Gateau Basque

Dorie Greenspan, Around My French Table

Ingredients

  • 2 C all purpose flour
  • 3/4 tsp baking powder
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 10 TBS (1 1/4 sticks) unsalted butter at room temp.
  • 1/4 C light brown sugar
  • 1/4 C sugar
  • 1 large egg, at room temp.
  • 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
  • 3/4-1 C thick cherry jam (or cream anglais or lemon curd or….ohhh…Nutella)
  • 1 egg beaten w/ splash of water for glazing

 Directions

  1. Whisk together the flour, baking powder and salt, set aside.
  2. In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a paddle (or hand mixer), beat the butter and sugars together on medium for about 3 minutes.
  3. Add the egg, beat for another 2 minutes scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed.  The mixture may look curdled and that’s okay.
  4. Reduce mixer to low, add-in vanilla.  Then add-in dry ingredients in 2-3 additions mixing in between until just combined.
  5. Place a large sheet of plastic wrap, wax paper or parchment on your work surface.  Put half of the dough (it will be sticky) in the middle and shape into  a disk (get it as round and flat as possible…maybe…4-5 inches).  Repeat with second half of dough.
  6. Refrigerate for at least 3 hours (overnight is always good).
  7. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Generously butter an 8X2 round cake pan.
  8. Remove rounds of dough from fridge and let them rest for a couple of minutes.  Then, roll each out into an 8 inch rounds (to avoid adding flour, I like to layer the dough between sheets of parchment and then roll).  If the dough breaks or cracks, not to worry, just piece it back together like you would pie dough.
  9. Fit one round into the bottom of the dough.  If it rides up the sides a little, this is good and will help to seal the top layer.
  10. Spoon 3/4 C of your preferred filling onto dough.  Start at the center and spread until you have about a 1-inch margin.
  11. Moisten the bare ring of dough (around the jam) with water.
  12. Add the second piece of dough, pressing around the edges to seal it.  Dorie says that no matter how tightly you press the dough, a little of the filling is bound to escape during baking.  This will give your gateau some character.
  13. Brush the top of the dough with egg wash.  Using the tines of a fork or a sharp pairing knife etch a cross-hatch pattern into the top (in the one pictured above I did not press deeply enough and the patten baked-out).
  14. Bake for 40-45 minutes or until the top is golden brown.  Transfer to a cooling rack, let cool for 5 minutes.
  15. Carefully run a blunt (dinner) knife around the edge of the cake. Turn the cake over onto the cooling rack and then quickly flip it right-side-up so that it can cool to room temp.
  16. I think this is best enjoyed within the first day or two.  While the taste isn’t compromised, the pastry looses some of its crispness the next day.

 

 

The table of terror and other French adventures

Do you mind if we stay in Normandy a bit longer?  What if I offer another version of tarte aux pommes?

As I mentioned last Thursday, TD and I were in France a decade ago.  Sadly, we have yet to return, but that isn’t the point of this post.  Or maybe it is.  You see, TD is a bit of a francophobe.  Despite everything having turned out pretty much okay, he still hasn’t gotten over World War II.  So, the only way I could get him to actually visit France the first time was to include a trip to the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial. This really was a win-win situation.  He got to stand on what is technically American soil in France and I had an excuse to make sure we spent a couple of nights in Bayeux.

I have to admit, I was not expecting the power or emotion of the monument.  Perhaps it was that we’d just finished watching  HBO’s World War II mini-series Band of Brothers.  Or perhaps it was some strange prescience about what was just around the corner as we  returned from this trip on September 10, 2001.  Either way, the experience left an indelible mark on my reverence for what it means to live in a free democracy.

Even after spending the day at the memorial and in the local historical sights, there was plenty to do and see in the area (and what I mean by plenty is like, we should have spent a couple  more months there).  Bayeux is the home of the Bayeux Tapestry, a seriously long embroidered banner made in the early 9th century depicting some serious European history (hence the serious length).  Now, generally, TD and I are all for museums.  And, we did walk by the  Musee de la Tapisserie de Bayeux several times during our visit.  However, the City itself proved too charming a siren and we spent most of our time wandering around enjoying the outdoor markets and quaint architecture.

And then there was the Table of Terror.

Or at least, that’s what TD saw.

I saw La Table du Terroir.

Terroir is one of those lovely french words that does not have an English translation.  Grossly oversimplified, the word references a variety of geographic, weather and generally excellent karmic conditions that give certain crops their identity.  It is often utilized in conjunction with grape varietals.  And  Halloween.

Though terroir and its meaning is significantly more charming, “terror” stuck and we still talk about our meal at the Table of Terror (which was, of course, the exact opposite).

And that brings me to this week’s recipe: tarte normande.

Like its sweet and elegant sister tarte aux pommes, tarte normade is crowned with a composed array of thinly sliced apples.  However, instead of more apples underneath, the normande version has a beautiful layer of frangipane.  Frangipane is sort of like an almond custard.  It is nutty, but also somehow manages to be both light and rich.  It is incredibly versatile and equally delicious with apples, berries or stone fruit.

Unlike last week’s press-in sweet tart dough, this tarte starts with a more savory rolled-dough.

Since you are only using a single crust, the dough can easily be rolled, carefully transferred into a tart pan and then refrigerated or even frozen (be sure to wrap in plastic) in advance.

While your dough is in the fridge, it’s time to make the frangipone.  Which brings us back (once again) to almond meal.  Make your own or buy it, either way, you’ll need about 2/3 of a cup.

Pulsed together in the food processor, the finished product is sort of like a gritty whipped frosting (well, not finished product, I don’t know if anyone would eat this stuff raw).

The frangipone can also be made in advance and kept in the fridge for a day or two.  Once you are ready to assemble the tart, spread the frangipone evenly in the bottom of the tart.

Then, a nice layer of thinly sliced apples is arrange on top followed by a generous sprinkle of sugar.

Then, bake until toasty.  Your apples will sink-into the tart a little bit.  For this reason, I suggest cramming as many apple slices into your arrangement as you can possibly fit.

Pretty, isn’t it?

The final step is a light brushing of apricot preserves (melted) if you so desire.  You’ll want to let the tart cool before serving so that you can easily remove the tart ring.  However, it would taste pretty amazing slightly warmed with a scoop of vanilla ice cream (or caramel, or chocolate or….) or maybe some scratch whipped cream.  Not that I would admit to it, but this little tart tarte makes an excellent breakfast with a strong cup of black coffee.

Soundtrack

Adele.  Both albums.  One playlist.

Tarte de pommes a la Normande

from www.allrecipes.com

Ingredients

Pastry

  • 1 1/3 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 pinch salt
  • 1/2 cup butter, softened
  • 1 egg yolk
  • 3 tablespoons cold water, or as needed

Frangipane:

  • 1/2 cup butter, softened
  • 1/2 cup white sugar
  • 1 egg, beaten
  • 1 egg yolk
  • 1 tablespoon apple brandy (I used peach because its what I had)
  • 2/3 cup ground almonds
  • 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

Apples:

  • 4 medium sweet apples – peeled, cored, halved and thinly sliced
  • 1 teaspoon white sugar for decoration
  • 1/4 cup apricot jelly

Directions

  1. In a medium bowl, stir together 1 1/3 cups of flour and salt. Add the butter, 1 egg yolk and water, and stir until the mixture forms large crumbs. If it is too dry to press a handful together, stir in more water. Press the dough into a ball, and wrap in plastic wrap. Flatten slightly, and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes, or until firm. This part can be done up to three days in advance.
  2. To make the frangipane, cream together the butter and 1/2 cup of sugar in a medium bowl until light and soft. Gradually mix in the egg and the remaining egg yolk one at a time. Stir in the apple brandy. Stir 2 tablespoons of flour into the ground almonds, then mix into the batter. Set aside.
  3. Roll the pastry dough out to about a 12 inch circle on a lightly floured surface. Fold loosely into quarters, and center the point in a 10 inch tart or pie pan. Unfold dough, and press into the bottom and up the sides. Prick with a fork all over, and flute the edges. Return pastry to the refrigerator to chill until firm.
  4. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F (200 degrees C). Place a baking sheet inside the oven while it preheats.
  5. Spoon the frangipane into the chilled pastry, and spread into an even layer. Arrange the apple slices in an overlapping spiral pattern. Each slice should have one edge pressed into the frangipane until it touches the pastry base, and then overlap the previous slice. Start at the outside edge, and work towards the center.
  6. Place the pie plate on top of the baking sheet in the preheated oven. Bake for 15 minutes, or until the filling begins to brown. Reduce the oven temperature to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Bake for another 10 minutes, then sprinkle sugar over the top of the tart. Return to the oven for 10 more minutes, or until the sugar caramelizes slightly.
  7. Cool the tart on a wire rack. A short time before serving, warm the apricot jelly. Add some water if necessary to make it a liquid consistency. Brush onto the tart for a nice shine.