Strawberry Truffle Tart

I began working on this recipe in February, I think.
Long story short, I didn't think it would take me quite so long to post it.
(Time seems to be going fast this year though.)
BUT, among other things, I seemed to have a problem with consistency- each time I made it, it tasted just fine, but the texture was a little off (i.e the strawberry filling wasn't stiff enough to hold up to slicing and cooperate in staying in that form), or I ended up with too much of this or that aspect for a single tart...
You know, stuff...

So, keep trying.

The pastry needed to be crisp and cookie-like, the strawberry filling somewhere between jam and a pâte de fruits, the chocolate ganache top slice-able and solid but still a bit soft.
A little more of this here and maybe less of that there.
(And actually, most of the photos come from a "testing" day, not the final recipe day.
"Sliced" view? Soft filling. But good visual effect!)

I'm hoping this is it for good, for ever time.
But I suppose nothing can ever be totally black and white.
I don't control strawberries and their moisture content, for instance. Sad fact, I know.
And I guess that would be one reason why recipes always have variable times for cooking things- there ARE a lot of variables (humidity, elevation, product availability, etc.).
So that's when the cook's experience and perhaps intuition come into play- you need to have an idea of what you're doing or looking for sometimes to make as best as you can.

However, if nothing else, if not absolutely drop-dead gorgeous on the plate, it will taste good!

I think this is a nice nibble for the afternoon, with tea or coffee...


The pan used is a 13 3/4 x 4 1/2 inch (about 35 cm by 11 1/2 cm) rectangular tart pan with a removable bottom

Strawberry Truffle Tart
serves 9

60 g (1/2 c + 2T) hazelnut flour
50 g (1/3 c + 1T) sweet (glutinous) rice flour
40 g (1/3 c + 1T+ 1t) oat flour
45 g (3 T) sugar
3 g (1/4 t) salt
85 g (6 T) butter, cold and cubed
5 ml (1 t) vanilla
30 ml (2 T) cold water

45 g (1/4 c) semi-sweet chocolate chips

8 oz (225 g) strawberries, trimmed and sliced before weighing
45 g (3 T) sugar
30 ml (2 T) water
120 ml (1/2 c) good strawberry jam
3 ml (1/2 t) lemon juice, plus more to taste

95ml (1/3 c plus 1 T) heavy cream
110 g (about 2/3 c) dark chocolate
10 ml (2 t) corn syrup (optional)

Optional for stripes:
30 g (1/4 c) confectioner's sugar
15 ml (1T) cream or milk


Preheat the oven to 400 F/200 C.
In the bowl of a food processor, blend the hazelnut, rice, and oat flours along with the sugar and salt. Add the butter and pulse several times until the mixture is fairly uniform and crumbly or sandy, without visible bits of butter. Sprinkle the vanilla and 2/3 of the water over the flour mixture and pulse several times to incorporate. Pinch a bit of the pastry dough to see if it comes together, if not, add the rest of the water and pulse a few times more to blend.
Tip the dough out into the tart pan and press along the bottom and up the sides of the tin, as uniformly as possible. 
Refrigerate the dough 10-15 minutes until cold and stiff.

Place the prepared tart pan in the oven and reduce the temperature to 350 F/175 C. Bake 25-30 minutes, or until the tart dough is completely set and pale golden.
Sprinkle chocolate chips over the finished pastry shell and let them melt a few minutes. Very gently, with the bowl of a spoon or an offset spatula, spread the melted chocolate over the bottom surface of the tart. Cool the tart and then refrigerate.

While the tart shell rests in the fridge  (or while it bakes), begin working on the strawberry filling. Bring the strawberries, sugar and water to a strong simmer over medium heat. Simmer 7-10 minutes, stirring or shaking the pan occasionally, at which time you should see thick and glossy bubbles and the liquid is somewhat reduced. Add the strawberry jam and puree the mixture in a food processor to break down the strawberries. Place the mixture back in the pan and simmer the mixture a further 7 minutes or so, stirring more frequently closer to the end so the jam doesn't scorch.
Pull the pan off the heat and stir in the lemon juice.
Let the mixture cool in the pan.

When ready to assemble the tart, make the ganache.
Place the chocolate and cream together in a bowl set over a small saucepan of simmering water, set over medium-low heat. Heat the mixture, stirring occasionally, until the chocolate is completely melted and the mixture smooth and homogeneous. Stir in the corn syrup, if using.

While the chocolate is melting for ganache, remove the tart crust from the refrigerator and spoon the strawberry filling over the bottom of the crust. Spread it evenly along the base and set aside.

(OPTIONAL STEP:
Make the white stripe icing by mixing the confectioner's sugar and cream in a small bowl. Place the icing in a small plastic bag (or pastry bag fitted with a very small tip) and set aside until ready to use.)

When the ganache is ready, spoon it carefully over the jam. Spread it gently, smoothly and evenly with an offset spatula, covering all of the jam filling and sealing it off all the way to the edge of the pastry. Cut a small corner off the bag with the icing- if using, and with a steady hand draw stripes across the tart about every inch or so. Using a toothpick, pull a toothpick perpendicularly through the icing stripes, every 1/2 to 1 inch, alternating directions. (After you're finished it should look like the toothpick has been pulled though top to bottom, then bottom to top, top to bottom, etc.) Ganache and icing will both settle a bit and lose some sheen after resting and chilling.

Refrigerate the tart at least a couple hours before slicing and serving.

Raspberry-Rose Sorbet

As far as this recipe goes, I wanted something summer-appropriate and good to go while berries are plentiful, nice, and ripe. Thankfully, there's also no cooking involved, no heat per se whatsoever.
Fruit macerates with the sugar, everything is blended and strained, and finally frozen.

It's a deep shade of red-pink with an intense fruit flavor. To me, a bit goes further than perhaps another option, as it can be savored in small scoops.

The rose component may be a little different yes, but I have a bottle of rosewater that I don't use all too often. I wanted another function for the ingredient- no matter how small that may be.

Rosewater is certainly not one of those "more is better" things. Subtlety is better with rosewater, and that balance is not always easy. As with many things, it can completely be a personal preference, too. A bit of it may be enough for one, but not enough for another. A touch more may be much too much for the first person, and just enough for the second.
I'd rather go the conservative route.
And yes, I have accidentally gone the opposite way.

Raspberries smell very "green" to me. Not green as in unripe, but green as in grassy, fresh. Strawberries, for example, do not.
Rose can enhance that fresh raspberry flavor, which can at times be "rose-y" itself (in fact, they're botanically related- and sometimes things can go together that way). There's just a bit of that floral essence the finish of the sorbet, I don't find it to be a rose perfume flavor through and through.

Depending on your berries, you may want to add a bit more sugar, or more lemon juice (and perhaps a few more drops rosewater) The berries I started with were somewhat tart this time, and I ended up adding about two more tablespoons of sugar, whisked through to combine after being strained. And still, it is a bit tart, but I think that's how it should be. However, I still think that bit of lemon is important for brightness.

The finished sorbet is kind of nice with a tiny meringue crumbled over the top.

And so...



Raspberry-Rose Sorbet
makes about 1 quart

30 oz (850 g) raspberries
3/4 c (170 g) sugar (extra as necessary depending on your berries)
zest of 1 small lemon
1 T (15 ml) fresh lemon juice (extra as necessary, to taste)
1/2 t (about 3 ml) rosewater - plus a few drops more to taste


Combine raspberries and sugar in a large bowl and cover. Let macerate a couple hours, stirring and smashing the berries a couple times so that the sugar dissolves and the berries give up their juice.  Add the lemon zest and stir it through the mixture. Pour the bits of berries and juice into a blender and blend to break up the last bits. Strain to remove most of the seeds (some really don't bother me- at least you know it's real).

Add the lemon juice and rosewater, and whisk through to blend. Taste and add a bit more sugar or lemon juice, and/or a few drops more rosewater as you think necessary.

Refrigerate an hour or two until cold.

Chill in the bowl of an ice cream maker per manufacturers instructions.

Remove the slushy, cold sorbet to a container, cover, and place in the freezer to stiffen until it reaches the appropriate and scoopable texture.
(If the sorbet has been in the freezer a while and is very hard, obviously leave out to stiffen a bit.)

Rhubarb Strawberry Jam

When rhubarb season rolls around, I just can't resist.
At the very least I have to make ONE batch of jam to put away (for at least a little while). This way rhubarb can be savored much later in the year (or early the next). One nice thing about jam is that you can get a bit of that great flavor, and it doesn't disappear all at once. A jar of jam theoretically lasts longer than, say, a pie or tart might.
(And yes, I like to reuse certain jam jars for their shape and style.)

I think it's my all-time favorite confiture.
There are just a few ingredients, simple and perfect.
When I make a batch I don't really want to share, but I know its better for several reasons that I do so.

This is an updated version of a rhubarb berry jam I posted years ago.
I have this habit of making lists and notes on Post-its and misplacing them, so it behooves me to write recipes elsewhere ASAP so I don't have to do a frantic search or take the time to figure something out all over again.
Some concepts here are based on The Blue Chair Jam Cookbook by Rachel Saunders- but there is no actual rhubarb strawberry jam listed in the book.

It's a two-day project (or maybe some prep the afternoon or night before, not too much work on Day 1), and I would totally recommend the use of a kitchen scale for a recipe like this that utilizes larger amounts.

I agree that you need to let the rhubarb shine, making it the greater portion of the fruit in the recipe. Rhubarb certainly has it's own flavor, tart and distinctive. As I write, I'm trying to think of ways to describe the flavor, but am having a hard time coming up with anything...
I don't know. To me, there's something amazing about that flavor.

 

Obviously, as the jam cooks the fruit will break down, so it's a personal preference to have larger pieces of fruit to retain texture and so you really see and taste what's in the finished jam.

But, the jam is nice on plain yogurt, with pound cake, on good vanilla ice cream, as a filling for a tart, crostata, or cookies, and of course toast.

Rhubarb Strawberry Jam
makes about 8, 12 oz jars

Day 1
2 3/4 lbs. (about 1 kg and 247 g) rhubarb (*after being trimmed and sliced)
1 3/4 lbs. (about 794 g) cane sugar
2 oz (1/4 c or 60 ml) lemon juice

To add on Day 2
1 1/2 lbs. (about 680 g) strawberries, sliced if large
1 3/4 lbs. (about 794 g) cane sugar
3 oz (1/4 c plus 2 T or 90 ml) lemon juice, separated


Clean the pieces of rhubarb, cut off the top and bottom ends, and slice into 1-2 inch pieces. Weigh out 2 3/4 lbs. of the rhubarb, place in a glass container, add the sugar and lemon juice and stir to combine.
Cover tightly with plastic wrap and leave in a relatively warm place to macerate for at least 12 hours and up to 24.

When ready to make the jam, place a small plate with several spoons in the freezer (for later, to check the consistency of the jam).

Place the rhubarb along with any juices in an 11-12 qt. copper preserving pan or a nonreactive kettle. Add the strawberries, sugar, and 2 oz of the lemon juice and stir until the sugar is thoroughly combined.

Bring the mixture to a boil over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally with a heatproof rubber spatula about 10 minutes. Raise the heat to medium-high and continue to stir occasionally.  As the jam thickens, stir more frequently, relatively constantly near the end, making sure to scrape the sides and bottom of the pan so it does not scorch. If the jam seems to get too sticky on the sides of the pan, perhaps reduce the heat a bit. Cooking time at the higher heat will take about 20 minutes depending on juiciness of the fruit and evaporation. Add the rest of the lemon juice, stir through, and continue to cook the jam for 2-3 minutes.

Remove the pan from the heat (if it seems a little thin remember that it will continue to thicken as it cools), and place a spoonful of the jam on the frozen plate. Put the plate with the spoon back in the freezer for a few minutes. When the time is up, take the plate and spoon back out of the freezer and lift the spoon to see if the jam is runny. If it's watery and easily falls off the spoon, you'll need to cook it a few minutes longer and re-test the consistency. If the jam is instead thick and wrinkles a bit when you nudge it with your finger, it's finished and ready to place in glass jars.

NOTE ON JARS:
Lids should be clean and jars should be HOT and sterilized. You can use an empty dishwasher on a hot cycle, but you can boil the jars or use your oven.  If using your oven, place clean jars on a pan in a 250 F (120 C) oven for 30 minutes. Place a little jam in one of these jars and see if it bubbles or boils. If so, the jar is a little too hot and should cool off a bit before continuing.

Fill the hot jars with the finished jam, leaving about 1/4 inch space. Wipe the rims with a clean damp cloth, and screw lids on the jars. 

Jam can be left as is, to cool, or placed in that 250 F (120 C) oven for 15 minutes. 
If the oven method is used, the filled jars should be left to cool on a wire rack overnight before storing them.

Jars that have NOT been finished in the oven should be refrigerated.
Any jars that have been finished in the oven which are not completely sealed and whose centers are not convex should also be placed in the refrigerator.

Properly canned jars can last a year or two in a pantry.
Mine don't last that long (I give some away and those I keep, I usually just leave in the fridge). 

Oat and Buckwheat Crêpes

I love crêpes, and this particular version was initially a bit experimental, partially meant as a way to help use up buttermilk.

Am I the only one who buys a quart- since most of the time that's all I can find- only to use 1/2 cup or so? I'm thinking not...
The rest was using some of the things on hand.
Buckwheat, one thing I have but not something that I happen to use religiously, is somewhat earthy and a crêpe (galette) classic.
Oat flour (a favorite flour of mine, actually) add slightly sweet nuttiness.
The overall flavor seems especially nice when paired with strawberries

The results aren't bad at all, I think, so here you go.
(And basically, yes, it has so far assisted in reducing buttermilk supply, and will continue to do so when I have an excess of buttermilk. Then again, maybe I'll be purchasing buttermilk solely for this purpose.)

Crêpes are initially delicate while they're cooking- so a well seasoned pan is paramount.
And a steel crêpe pan is certainly nice, but not entirely necessary.
Note for a crêpe pan: don't let anyone scrub the finish (seasoning) off your pan that you worked to put there in the first place- it's what keeps the pan nonstick and is so much more convenient than dealing with the alternative.

If you're not used to pan swirling, you'll get a little practice here. It's a timing thing, you'll be using both hands, and you have to keep moving. But once you get into the swing of things it'll be fine.
And remember, the first crêpe or two can often be duds. No big deal. They're still edible.

My  favorite is eating the crêpes right off the heat, "failed" and torn or not, tender with crispy edges.

Folded with fresh berries and topped with whipped cream is always a good option, rolled into cigars with a bit of cinnamon sugar or a very thin layer of jam, chocolate, or lemon curd is another possibility.
The sliced banana and Nutella combination is pretty classic, too.

Crêpes Suzette is a bit more involved than the more basic crêpe I'm offering today, but also very nice.
A high-stacked crêpe cake layered with chocolate or a cream between crêpes would also be an idea.

OR, maybe omit the sugar, add a pinch more salt, and fill with cheese, sauteed mushrooms (or maybe this version instead), ham, eggs, ham and eggs... or whatever other savory things you might like.

Oat and Buckwheat Crêpes
(makes 15-20, 6 inch crepes)

1/2 c (55 g) oat flour
3/4 c (115 g) buckwheat flour
1/4 t (2 g) salt
1 T (16 g) sugar
3 large eggs
2 T (30 g) butter, melted
1/2 c (125 ml) buttermilk
3/4 c (180 ml) whole milk
1/2 c (125 ml) water, plus extra as necessary
Butter, to cook the crepes

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flours, salt, and sugar until well blended. Add the eggs and butter, and whisk, breaking up any lumps, until a smooth paste forms. Add the buttermilk and whisk the mixture together until incorporated. Finish by adding the milk and water into the mixture, and carefully blend to a nice pour-able batter. 
Cover and refrigerate to rest and let the flours absorb the liquid at least an hour and up to a day.

When ready to cook the crêpes, remove the batter from the fridge and place a well-seasoned pan over medium heat to warm.
While the pan heats, check the consistency of your batter, stir and then pour a bit back into the bowl. You want it to be about like a nice heavy cream- NOT glue. Add water, maybe 1 T (15 ml) at a time or so until you reach the correct consistency.

To the now-hot pan, add a bit of butter. After the butter melts and foams, swirl the pan to coat the bottom with a thin layer.

Remove the pan from the heat with your non-dominant hand and pour batter into the pan using your dominant hand, aiming for somewhere between 3 T and 1/4 c range (45-60 ml). Quickly swirl the pan to evenly distribute the batter. Place the pan back on the heat and cook a couple minutes. The top of the crêpe will appear more matte and tacky, while the edges will crisp a little and possibly pull away from the sides. Carefully slide a rubber spatula around the edge and under the center, pick the crêpe up off the pan, and flip it so the cooked side is up. Cook a further minute or two until the second side is slightly browned and the crêpe slides around on the pan easily.
(If you've found that the batter is a bit thick and doesn't flow and "swirl" properly, you'll likely need to thin the batter with a bit of water- or potentially add a bit more flour if it's too thin so it behaves appropriately.)

Slide the crêpe out of the pan and onto a plate, stack the crêpes as you go, or serving them as they are made.
Continue in the same manner to cook the remaining crêpe batter, adding a little butter to the pan, etc., and stirring the batter a bit between crêpes to make sure the batter remains fairly uniform throughout.
Serve as desired. 


NOTE/UPDATE:
I've found they work out quite well lactose-free too, if replacing both the milk and buttermilk measurements with an alternative milk. I've used unsweetened "milk" made with peas (Ripple) and had great results. Ghee can replace the melted butter- I've not tried other oils, but at some point I'd try coconut oil to make the crêpes completely dairy-free.

Fig and Raspberry Jam

Together figs and raspberries create a perfumey concoction bridging two seasons.
A lovely end of summer/beginning of autumn jam to make and put away for when you might need something a little different and special.

(I just love making jam whenever I get the chance.)

Cooking figs always smell like the woods to me- the woods on a crisp autumn day. There's something about the air and the crunchy leaves that have fallen from the trees that smell like figs.
Combine the fig scent with that of ripe and juicy raspberries and you have an interesting fragrance, an earthy sort of sweetness that permeates the house.

Port added near the end of cooking lends a bit of raisiny depth and helps increase the autumn-ness of this jam. It's bright, but cozy.

As I have said before when speaking of confiture, I do not actually can and process jams as they are for my use/friends/family and they go directly into the refrigerator after the jars are cool enough to handle (NOT into the cabinet to sit at room temperature since they have not been processed).

With both figs and raspberries, and being unstrained, this certainly turns out to be a seeded jam. I don't mind that though, it's real. It is what it is.

Fresh jams are always great on a piece of hearty grainy toast, a crumpet, or a warm scone.
I think this version would be especially nice with cooked with pork or served with turkey- or as part of a cheese board (perhaps along with some chevre, brie, or triple-crème?).
Stir it into yogurt.
Use it as the filling for a crostata...

Some of the technique is taken from the Blue Chair Jam Cookbook.


Fig and Raspberry Jam
makes about 10 pints

2 lb (about 910 g) fresh figs
water
2 1/2 lb (1 kg plus 130 g) raspberries
5 c (1 kg plus about 110 g) sugar 
1/4 c (60 ml) fresh lemon juice
1/2 c (120 ml) Port

Place a small plate and 4-5 spoons in the freezer to later check the jam consistency.

Remove the stems and cut the figs into eights (or into 12 pieces if larger), place in a large saucepan and cover with about 1/4 inch of water. Cover the pan with a lid and heat the figs over medium high heat until the mixture comes to a boil. 

Meanwhile, place the raspberries and sugar in a large bowl to macerate and set aside.

Once the fig mixture boils, stir and reduce the heat to low. Re-cover and let simmer 5 minutes, then mash the figs with a potato masher to reduce everything to a juicy pulp. Cover again and let the mixture cook 20-30 minutes, until the figs develop a soft and mushy consistency and the mixture is relatively uniform (mashing and stirring every 5 minutes or so).

Pour the raspberry and sugar mixture into the pan of fig puree and stir to combine. Add the lemon juice. 

Pour the fruit and sugar mixture into a preserving pan or wide, nonreactive pan.  Bring to a boil over high heat and then reduce the heat to a simmer, stirring every now and then to keep the jam for scorching on the bottom of the pan. After about 10 minutes of simmering, add the Port and stir though. Continue simmering and stirring 15 minutes more, then check the consistency of the jam by taking a spoonful in one of the frozen spoons. Place the spoon and plate back in the freezer about 3 minutes to re-chill, while continuing to cook the jam on the stove. 

Remove the spoon and plate from the freezer and tip the jam from the spoon. If it falls thickly and slowly from the spoon, it's a good jam consistency. If it's still quite liquid, cook longer and check in the same manner every 5 minutes or so. 

When the jam has reached the desired consistency, remove the pan from the heat, fill sterilized jars with hot jam, and screw (or clamp) the lids on. 
*At this point process as desired if you would like you jam to be shelf stable.
  

Let the jars sit at room temperature until you're able to handle them easily then place the jars in the refrigerator.

Jam should last at least a month and up to several if kept refrigerated. 

Strawberry Basil Sorbet

Sorbets made from fresh fruit are refreshing and summery warm-weather fare (great for the official unofficial first day of summer- or whenever school is out).
Simple to make, they require just a handful of ingredients.

And as far as tools go, all you need is a freezer, large dish, and a whisk. No ice cream maker necessary.
Well, you'll want to pull out that food processor... but the thing is that it's not so much a one trick pony as the ice cream maker. And we can safely assume it's used more year-round than it's kitchen compatriot.

While the ripest strawberries are the best and most flavorful in any case, you don't have complete control of the ripeness of each and every strawberry in your box. The best way to choose a box of strawberries is by scent and color. An undeniable strawberry scent and a large portion of deep red, shiny berries would be the way to go. Large size isn't necessarily the way to go. In fact, the smaller, more intense berries are best if you can find them. And make sure to shy away from berries with white shoulders.

Sugar, the devil to many a diabetic, is integral in sorbet. Other than giving the strawberries an immediate faux ripening effect, it plays a large part in our dessert's final texture.
A thick syrup is produced soon after the sugar hits the berries and they begin to release their flavorful ruby juices. Water in the mix crystallizes when frozen. Those other parts of the sorbet such as the sugar and bits of fruit (softened by the sugar) are best spread thoroughly and evenly throughout the sorbet. Small ice crystals are formed and further broken by agitation as well even distribution among the fruit and sugar.  Smaller ice crystals yield a smoother, creamier result.

That said, it's true, constant agitation is better, and truly constant agitation with a good addition of air is gained with an ice cream maker.
However, the amount in this recipe is probably too much for many ice cream makers, especially since sorbets and ice creams expand as they freeze.

If it happens to freeze solid, just run the tines of a fork over the frozen sorbet to break it up a bit: you then have granita. Of course, it's an easy option with a lot less stirring if that's what you want instead of a creamy sorbet. Just leave it overnight.

The flavor combination is unexpected, but the two pair so well. Some may be able to guess just exactly what it is after a few tentative and curious bites.

The strawberries are a given, but the basil adds a sweet and anise-like freshness- with a little lemon to brighten things up, all the flavors pop.

Isn't it funny though how some flavors you wouldn't expect together work so beautifully as a team?

Maybe a tiny drizzle of good aged balsamic vinegar would add a nice touch...

Dessert enough for a small crowd.

Strawberry Basil Sorbet
adapted from My Darling Lemon Thyme
serves 8-10

3 lb. (1kg plus 350 g) strawberries
1 1/2 c (320 g) sugar
3 oz (84 g) fresh basil (both leaves and stems are fine here)
1/4 t salt 
5 T (75 ml) fresh lemon juice

Wash, hull, and halve or quarter the strawberries into a large bowl.  
Sprinkle strawberries with the sugar and let sit 1 1/2 hours, tossing and stirring occasionally to encourage syrup to form.
Once the time is up, strain the syrup from the strawberries and pour the syrup into a medium saucepan. Reserve the strawberries and set them aside in a bowl.

Add the basil leaves to the strawberry syrup and cook over medium-low heat until the mixture reaches a simmer. Remove the pan from the heat and let the basil infuse into the syrup 15 minutes.
Strain the basil from the syrup, squeezing the basil to extract as much flavor as possible.

In the bowl of a food processor, process the strawberries with the basil syrup until smooth. This may need to be done in several batches depending on processor size, but I recommend not attempting to process in less than two rounds.

Stir in the salt and lemon juice until fully incorporated.

Pour into a shallow 3 qt/3 L baking dish and freeze 1-2 hours, or until the sorbet begins to freeze around the edges. Once it's partially frozen, break up the frozen bits with a whisk and whisk them through to incorporate the throughout the sorbet. Place the dish back in the freezer, check every hour or so, re-whisking each time. It will take several hours, so this is a project best begun late in the morning or early in the afternoon it is to be served. The sorbet doneness depends on several factors, including the freezer temperature and depth of the dish used to hold the sorbet.

(If the sorbet is too stiff to scoop, leave it out for a bit at room temperature to soften.)

Strawberry-Mascarpone Tartlets

One of the best, simple and satisfying end-of-meal sweets is a bowl of fresh berries and cream.
Ripe, deeply colored berries, a sprinkle of vanilla sugar, and a dose of liquid cream over the top.

I suppose this constitutes a version of strawberries and cream (with a bit of delicate and crumbly cookie, a shortbread-like crust... which I think may now be my go-to for tartlets).

It's been a while since I posted something sweet- it's about time.

Sometimes you need something that's not chocolate, something that seems lighter... more so when the days lengthen and the weather warms.
Fruit is always a good call. Of course, it's much better when gorgeously perfect and in season.

The time's not quite right for strawberries yet, but I'm getting prepared.

Individual strawberry tartlets are an elegant type of dessert, or something to nibble in the afternoon while sipping coffee. With tiny tartlets you don't have to worry about them falling apart in the same way as if you made a large tart and then tried to cut it. The look is much cleaner.
AND it covers up any questionable tart-division skills.
Just something to think about...

Maybe a drizzle of chocolate, chocolate on the plate, chocolate shavings on top, or some cocoa powder in the pastry crust (in that case maybe remove a tablespoon of the sorghum flour and a tablespoon of the tapioca flour and add two tablespoons of cocoa powder, but don't quote me on it- I haven't tried it yet myself).
Perhaps a little cardamom, lime or lemon zest with the strawberries (or, of course, in the crust).
A little sprig of mint or chiffonade of basil leaves sprinkled on top for color and flavor pizzazz?

However, all by it's lonesome it's pretty great.

Strawberry-Mascarpone Tartlets
Makes 8, 4 inch tarts

1 1/3 c (150 g) sorghum flour
3/4 c (60 g) almond flour
1/3 c (33 g) tapioca flour
large pinch salt
3 T (50 g) sugar
8 T (114 g) butter
1 large egg
3 T (45 ml) water

8 oz (225 g) mascarpone cheese
3/4 c (180 ml) heavy (whipping) cream, divided
1/2 vanilla bean, seeds scraped
3 T (51 g) sugar (vanilla, if you've got a jar of vanilla sugar going using the scraped pods)

1 lb. (about 450 g) strawberries
2 T (34 g) sugar
1 T (15 ml) fresh lemon juice
(If you like more of a mountain of strawberries and/or don't mind leftovers, just add half of everything, or even double it. Of course, if the strawberries aren't very ripe they may benefit from extra sugar to taste.)


In the bowl of a food processor, combine the sorghum, almond, and tapioca flours along with the salt and sugar. Pulse several times until well blended. Add the butter, cut into 6-8 pieces and pulse again several times until it resembles damp, crumbly sand. Crack the egg into a small bowl and pour it into the food processor, and pulse several times again until combined. Drizzle the water over the dough and process until it comes together into a ball. 

Remove the dough to waxed paper or plastic wrap, wrap well, and refrigerate at least 30 minutes. 

Divide the dough among 8, 4-inch tart tins. The easiest way to  fill the tins is to use fingers or a small offset spatula to smooth the pastry evenly across the bottom and up the insides of the tins.

Freeze the tart tins at least 10 minutes while you preheat the oven to 350/180.

Dock the bottoms of the tart shells with a fork and bake the prepared tart tins on a sheet pan about 20-25 minutes, until set and slightly golden (you may need to gently dock the tarts again to deflate if they have puffed a bit too much). 
Let cool a few minutes on a rack, then carefully invert the tins (if not the removable-bottom type), to remove the baked shells. Let cool completely.
(At this point I like to place the finished tart shells back into the tins to protect them- just in case).

Clean and slice the strawberries.  About 30 minutes prior to serving, add the sugar and lemon juice. Toss the berries with the sugar and lemon juice and set aside, gently tossing a few times  so they sweeten and macerate evenly.

Place the mascarpone cheese into a medium-sized bowl and soften a bit with a spatula. Add 2 T (30 ml) cream and fold/stir a bit until the consistency of the mascarpone is a little looser.
In another bowl whip the remaining cream along with seeds from the vanilla bean and the sugar until it reaches the very soft peak stage.   
Carefully fold into mascarpone, first about one third of the cream, and then the remaining cream, taking care not to whip things up too much as everything will stiffen further. 

Just prior to serving, spread the mascarpone cream mixture into each tart shell. Top with berries (and chocolate shavings,  or lemon zest, etc. if desired), and serve. 

Rote Grütze

Rote grütze is a thick red berry sauce or pudding, and a great way to take advantage of fresh summer fruit. 

The finished product is a wonderfully brazen shade of red. 

The recipe here is based on something I ate in Germany once upon a time.

In Munich, there's a fantastic gourmet food shop called Dallmayr. 

Coffee, tea, fruit, jams and honeys, chocolate, delicatessen, breads...

The displays, the color, the variety, the scents, the organization- quite something to see, and I think Dallmayr can be a destination in and of itself.
The closest thing I can think of as it's counterpart here is Dean & DeLuca (to give some sort of an idea- but that's not exactly right).

My version of rote grütze may be a bit different, not as thick as what may be expected, but it's based on what I had that day of exploration in central Munich: a cold and creamy vanilla bean rice pudding with a sweet and tart red berry sauce on top.
It was perfect.
I liked it so much that I wrote down the ingredients so I could try to replicate it at home.

One slight challenge for me was that while currants are more widely available in Europe, and used seemingly quite often, they're not as easily scouted out here in the US.

Currants are tart and beautifully shiny little berries, offering a punch of acidity to the mix with some of the sweeter and more familiar berries.
They can be found every now and then on their stems and boxed like clusters of bright red or black pearls, but they're not the most predictable bit of produce.  Though they might be in season, I can't say I'd be able to rely on them being present when I want some. So, I used red currant jelly instead. It's beneficial in two ways: as a flavor addition, and as a bit of a thickener because of the pectin it includes.

The dessert is neither ordinary nor cloyingly sweet. Instead, it has a slightly robust hit with the boost it gets from tart currants and bit of tannin from the red wine.

Ideas for serving:
on vanilla bean rice pudding
on ice cream
with pound cake and whipped cream
between layers of a cake
with custard
... or you could serve it as a dessert soup with a dollop of whipped cream

Rote Grütze
makes a generous 4 c/ 1 qt (1 L)

10 oz (285 g) raspberries
8 oz  (225 g) black cherries
8 oz (225 g) strawberries

6 oz (170 g) blackberries

1/2 c (125 ml) red wine

1/3 c (70 g) sugar
2 T (30 ml)  water
2 t (6 g) tapioca starch
1/2 c (165 g) red currant jelly
fresh lemon juice (to taste)

Rinse the raspberries and blackberries gently in a colander and drain. 
Rinse the cherries, pit and quarter. Rinse the strawberries, hull, and cut into pieces about the same size as the other fruits. 
Combine berries with sugar and red wine in a medium saucepan. Bring to a simmer over low-medium heat and cook, stirring occasionally for about 5 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat. Mix the water and tapioca starch together in a small bowl to form a slurry. Stir the slurry into the cooked berries and return the pot to the heat, stirring constantly 2-3 minutes while the tapioca starch thickens the sauce. You will be able to see the cloudiness disappear and should notice the sauce thicken slightly.
Remove the pan from the heat and carefully remove about half of the sauce and berries to a blender or food processor. Give the mixture a few short pulses to break down the berries. Add the red currant jelly and pulse again to incorporate.
Pour the mixture back into the pan with the unprocessed berries and stir to make sure the jelly melts and spreads throughout the mix.
Stir in lemon juice to taste (I would start with 2 t/10 ml).
Let the finished rote grütze cool (it will continue to thicken as it cools), then cover and refrigerate.
Serve as desired.

This amount would serve a crowd as a dessert topping, it can be stored in the refrigerator for use all week, or even canned or frozen and saved for later.