… actually, the Rustic Cherry Tart that I baked today was a *mostly* Rustic Cherry Tart. It was also partly pear. You see, we have a whopper of cherry tree that is currently chockers with fruit. Yesterday, we picked a bunch, and today, I thought I’d make some kinda sweet cherry tart, only to discover, that the larger half of the cherries had vanished.
I assumed, that the cherries had been gobbled down by someone in our house, but to my shock, I found out that Massi had shared them with a neighbour. Not shock at his having shared the fruit, but shock that he had managed to share them. Share them that is, without returning home with more produce than he had given away.
Since moving up to a small village in the hills between La Spezia and the Cinque Terre around five years ago, we’ve come to realise that we are surrounded by exceedingly generous neighbours. Habitually they ply us with food – mostly fresh fruit, herbs and vegetables from their orto or garden, but also various home-made goodies, like pasta sauces, preserved veggies, jams, olive oil, wine, and digestive liquors. We on the other hand, are beginner (pretty lousy) gardeners, and while we dream of greening our thumbs, we are outa their league when it comes to producing, preserving, pickling, pressing and distilling. Ditto at sharing the fruits of our labour.
To address this mismatch, I routinely try to make something and take it to our neighbours, as a way of saying thank you. However, it always, ALWAYS backfires. Yes, I manage to leave my offering, but I return home with arms full of glass jars, plates and bottles rattling with even more produce, preserves or booze bestowed on me. I just can’t seem to get anywhere on the *giving* act. BUT … after Massi’s one-way, cherry drop today, who knows what is possible?
But getting back to the sweet tart – finding myself (happily) short on cherries, for this tart I called in some pears to fill up the pastry. The patchwork finish was a reminder that this simple tart works well with a range of fruits. Early summer cherries maybe just be my favourites but pears, apples and stone fruit, are all delicious, and smashingly good-looking.
The recipe here is an adapted version of one that was passed on to me by a friend, who got it from a friend, who got it from a friend. It is also my attempt to mimic the buttery-almondy-fruity tarts you can find in bakeries in bars all around Italy. Typically eaten while standing and chatting with a morning caffe, they are also great, as an afternoon pick-me-up or, as a light dessert with a sweet wine. In essence, this large slab version (earning it the “rustic” label) is comprised of a sheet of pastry topped with a velvety, almond cream, enhanced with just a hint of vanilla, then blanketed with sliced fruit and baked. Yummmm.
The origin of the nutty, aromatic pastry cream, known as frangipane dates back to the 16th century, and to an Italian nobleman, Marquis Muzio Frangipani who was working in Paris. The story goes that, Signor Frangipani invented a unique perfume for scenting leather gloves that was based on bitter almonds and flower extracts. The gloves were a hit and Parisian society went mad for them. Allegedly, their popularity further inspired Parisian pastry chefs to create an almond cream which they called Frangipane. I know, I know … from scented leather gloves to almond cream, seems quite the leap but sure, I will go along with the story.
For this tart, if you fancy making your own sweet pastry go for it, otherwise store-bought puff is a great time saver. In Italy, the standard rectangle shape for puff pastry measures 32 x 28cm, and so I’ve worked the other ingredients around this size. My version is probably a bit heavy on the frangipane (I’m a sucker for almonds) so, consider that you could get away with less if you are adjusting quantities to match your pastry size.
The recipe is very flexible and forgiving, there’s no real chemical magic going on in the oven, it’s more a case of flavours and textures coming (and gluing) together, the fruit lightly caramelizing, and the pastry puffing. Having a little too much, or not enough of something, isn’t going to be deal breaker. It will only make for a tasty variation. Rustic Cherry Tart made with pears for example = a very, tasty variation.
*Plus, with this particular variation, people can hack off and enjoy their favourite parts as family has done.
Rustic Cherry Tart ~ Torta Rustica di Ciliegie
- 100g butter, softened
- 135g caster sugar
- 120g ground almonds
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 4 egg yolks (3 plus 1)
- 1 sheet puff pastry, unrolled or defrosted if using frozen
- Cherries – enough to cover pastry, pitted and cut in half
Preheat the oven to 200C.
In a small mixing bowl make the frangipane by combining the softened butter, sugar, ground almonds, vanilla and 3 of the egg yolks. Whip it around until smooth. Place in the refrigerator while you prepare the pastry base.
Place the sheet of puff pastry on baking tray lined with parchment paper. Using a sharp knife, score a 1cm boarder around the edge of the pastry being careful not to cut right through. Prick the base of the pasty with a fork, then brush over the entire surface with the remaining egg yolk.
Remove the frangipane from the fridge and spread evenly within the scored area of the pastry.
Place the cherries cut side up, in a single layer on top of the frangipane. The fruit will shrink a little and spread out in the oven, so go wild and load up the pastry with fruit.
Place the tart in the oven and bake for around 20-25 mins. When cooked the sides of the tart will be puffed and the entire surface will be golden.
