Sinfully Decadent Creamy Lemon Tart
With A Crisp Sugar Glaze (Time Allowing)
I made this for the staff get-together the other week, and being quite a shallow person I rather enjoyed all the requests for the recipe, which I did write out, photocopy and leave on the staff room table a day later. Five, I left, and I can't help but note that four of them are still available, but there you go, it went down well on the day, and since that was the third time I made it, I must say it went down well the other two times, although my partner is trained to make appreciative noises no matter what I cook. But enough of the run-on sentences, for which I apologise, having only just... oh, there's another. Damn.
But seriously: Crisp pastry, baked blind and glazed with egg yolk to make sure it doesn't have even a hint of sogginess. Cream-filled creamy filling, with the zest of real lemons and a crisp sugar glaze. Really, it's absolutely bloody excellent food...
Ingredients for the filling:
Gather together:
- 6 eggs.
Free range. I insist. Separate one out so you have an egg yolk for later.
- About 300ml of double cream.
I believe it's called 'heavy cream' in the US.
- The zest of two lemons.
While you're rinding, do an extra one for the pastry...
- The juice of three lemons
You've just taken the rind off one, so best to use it...
- 300g caster sugar.
Madame La Debutante tells me this is superfine sugar. Makes more sense than 'caster', actually.
Then:
Mix it all together. That's right - beat the six eggs (having kept one yolk aside for later), add the caster sugar and beat it even more. Pop in the two lemons' worth of rind, and the three lemons' worth of juice. Add double cream, and now you'll see why it says 'about' up there - you want to make about a litre of creamy-eggy-lemon mixture. And then chill it. For at least a few hours; it's one of those things you can leave for a day or so in the fridge, actually, under the impression that the flavours will somehow chat amongst themselves and mingle with each other. They probably do, but to my tastebuds it was pretty much the same after three hours being ignored as it was when I left it for a day.
Ingredients for the pastry crust:
Gather together:
- 175g butter.
Don't skimp - use real fresh creamy farm butter. With all that fat. Er... free range cows, please.
- 25g icing sugar.
Confectioner's sugar over there?
- An egg.
Yes, another one. I know you've still got a yolk sitting there. Keep it.
The rind of one lemon
You've covered this part up above.
- 50g ground almonds.
I usually toast these, but beware - they burn very easily.
- 225g plain flour.
Because you can't make pastry without flour. Probably.
Now:
Preheat your oven to 180°C, 350°F or Gas Mark 4, then get ready. I make this pastry by hand and it's a real pain. I mean, it's worth it - the person who told me about delicious crisp almondy flan pastry was right, it's superb. But, oh, it's a bugger without a food processor. If you have one of those, put everything but the flour and almonds in, blend it for about twenty or thirty seconds, then pile in the rest and blend it until it just comes together. If you're doing it by hand, it'll take a lot longer than twenty seconds, and you'll want to make sure the butter is softened.
However you've reached the point of having a ball of barely held-together crumbs, you now need to chill it. For at least a couple of hours, actually, but since you're waiting for the filling's flavours to socialise, that's hardly a problem. When it comes out later it'll be nice and hard, and that's how you want it. As with all pastry dough, stop handling it! Pastry hates being handled, the anti-social swine...
Some time later:
Oven hot? Oh, good... take a suitably-sized flan tin and grate the pastry into it. Quickly, quickly! You have to get this done before it warms up. Press it into the sides of the flan tin with the speed of any minor Greek deity, and (if you need to) why not chill it again before the pastry notices it's been violated. I think you will need to, actually, as this is rather tetchy pastry. Why not chill it for fifteen minutes? That's what I do, anyway.
Line it with baking paper, baking parchment, magic baking scroll, hi-tech baking liner material or whatever you use to line crusts, and weigh it down with baking beans. Bake it blind for twelve minutes, then remove it from the oven for technical fiddlings.
Technical fiddlings:
Take out the beans and the paper. Last time I did this, I poured the beans all over the kitchen floor and had to sweep them all up whilst muttering 'bugger' to myself. I waited, however, until I'd brushed the tart base with the egg yolk, getting into all the nooks and crannies with a pastry brush. That gave me a further eight minutes while the pastry went crisp and golden in the oven to pick up all my dried chickpeas, since that's what I use as baking beans.
Eight minutes later:
Turn the oven down to 150°C, 300°F or Gas Mark 2, slide the wire shelf of the oven out with the pastry on it and pour in the filling. Carefully. Slowly, gingerly and tenderly slide the wire tray back in so that you don't splash the kitchen floor with eggy lemon. I mean, yes, you can lift the crust out and pour it all in while the tin sits on the side, but then you have to pick it up and get it into the oven without slopping. Trust me, my way's best...
And we're off... countdown about 40 minutes, then check for excessive wobble. When you look at it, the filling will be swollen slightly in the middle, and may be gently undulating as the filling, presumably, boils. Incidentally, the ending of Stephen King's pseudonymic novel, Thinner, always springs to mind here... strawberry pie, anyone?
Regardless, if it's not runny then you're okay. Think of this as a giant lemon quiche - you want it to be creamy and set, but not dried out.
Finishing off:
Cool it, first. Oh, and have you turned off the oven? Lift the flan out of the tin, if you wish. Dust it with icing sugar, and grab the kitchen blowtorch. Spend hours, literally hours, slowly melting the sugar into a crisp shell. Resolve to buy a bigger blowtorch. Drown sorrows in a slice of delicious lemony tart, all creamy and zesty and lovely. Add whipped cream, too, because you're worth it.
Sinfully Decadent Creamy Lemon Tart, formulated and controlled by Laboratoire Garnier, with assistance from XWiz, who nicked bits of recipe from Antony Worral-Thomson, blond and bristly sexy chef god, and Gary Rhodes, a pillock with too much hair who uses the verb 'eats' incorrectly. He does have a good recipe for little biscuits, though. | 
