Roasted Raspberry Meringue Tart or How to Use up all Your Frozen Berries

As you may or may not know, I have a little thing for a certain food and travel magazine. The pictures, the articles, the recipes are all exactly how I want to cook every single day. You may or may not also know that, having spent a winter away, my craftily squirreled away stash of summer fruit is still largely intact. 

Summer fruit is starting to come along here and I have been having a little panic about how to use up what I have. 

I also have been fancying a recipe for a Rhubarb and Raspberry Meringue Tart in a certain food and travel magazine since returning from San Diego to a stack of six issues. This graced the cover and has had Poppy oohing and ahhing over what she calls its marshmallow top since first spotted back in April.

So, while I love this magazine, I have to come to terms, on a monthly basis, with the fact that, depending on how you choose to look at it, I get it six months early or late because of Australia being in the Southern Hemisphere and all. I also have to come to terms with the fact that, upside down seasons aside, certain things are never going to be in season plentifully together here; things like raspberries and rhubarb.

Our tart would be plain raspberries, and I would roast them with some sugar and lemon and hope that it wasn’t a complete mush in the end. It was but it was damn tasty mush and it was really nicely tart so that the italian meringue, or marshmallow top, didn’t make an overly sweet pud. The frangipane makes a delicious little tart all on its own and topped with the berries alone would be a really nice little take on a Bakewell tart but the meringue, the oh-my-god meringue elevates the whole thing way beyond the humble Bakewell.

I used frozen raspberries and made a double recipe (two tarts) so I freed up a lot of freezer space. You can use fresh and it will be less jammy if you treat them gently. You may be able to reduce the ‘roasting’ time as well. If you are using fresh berries, you could skip the cooking altogether and make a little raspberry syrup or coulis, toss the berries with it and pop them on top of the frangipane. I think you would need to eat it pretty quickly in that case as well, not that that should be an issue.

This tastes really and truly delicious and it is so pretty that you almost don’t want to cut it. But do, because you will be happy and happy and happy.

I’ll apologize now because taking lots of process shots seems to have gone the way of sleeping past 6:30 am, showers and not asking a toddler whether they need to use the potty every twelve minutes.

Roasted Raspberry Meringue Tart adapted from Australian Gourmet Traveller

Pastry

180 grams softened butter

40 grams icing sugar

2 egg yolks

250 grams plain flour

Beat butter until pale, add sugar and stir to combine. Add the egg yolks and 1 tablespoon chilled water. Sprinkle flour over and stir to just combine. Knead a few times on a floured surface. Wrap in plastic wrap and chill in refrigerator (+/-1 hour).

Frangipane

75 grams softened butter

80 grams granulated sugar

70 grams almond meal (ground almonds)

1 tablespoon booze (the recipe originally called for brandy, I used Grand Marnier)

2 eggs

50 grams slivered almonds

Beat butter and sugar until creamy and pale. Add the almond meal, booze and eggs. Stir just to combine and then stir through the slivered almonds. Refrigerate to chill (+/- 1 hour).

Roasted Raspberries

4 cups frozen raspberries (still frozen)

1/4 cup sugar (if you love sweet sweets then just bump the sugar up a bit here)

Finely grated zest of 1 lemon

Preheat oven to 400º. On a large baking sheet, arrange berries. Sprinkle with sugar and roast until outer edges start to caramelize. Gently stir or toss berries and return to oven. When the edges start to caramelize again, remove from oven and allow to cool. Strain any extra juices off and save to serve. Gently stir through the lemon zest. Allow to cool.

Roll out the pastry and line a 22 cm tin with a removeable base. I used a springform pan. Trim the edges and prick the bottom with a fork. Rest, in refrigerator, for one hour.

Heat the oven to 350º. Blind bake the tart case (line it with parchment and weigh it down with baking weights or some dried beans) for about 20 minutes, until light golden. remove the weights, or beans, and the parchment and bake for a further 10 minutes or until golden.

Spoon the frangipane into the tart case and bake until it is set and golden, about 15 minutes.

Cool just until firm and remove from tin.

Italian Meringue

175 grams granulated sugar

2 egg whites

Pinch of cream of tartar

In a small saucepan, add 60 ml of water to the sugar and heat gently until all sugar is dissolved. Increase heat and cook until temperature is 121ºc on a candy thermometer, this is pretty much the firm ball stage in the world of candy cookery. Meanwhile, beat the egg whites and cream of tartar until soft peaks form. Slowly drizzle the sugar syrup into the egg whites while the mixer is on and beat for 10-12 minutes until cool. The meringue will be glossy and firm.

While the meringue is whipping, spoon the raspberry mixture onto frangipane. Top with the meringue, pipe it if you have the means, otherwise a spoon and some swirls will be just perfect.

Serve drizzled with a little extra syrup if you like.

A Little Roasted for Your Crunch

There seems to have been a recent glut of broccoli in California. Our local market has literally had tons of it, all shapes and varieties, for cheap. Consequently, we have been eating it a lot.

Looking for a little something outside the steamed broccoli realm, I thought about the ubiquitous Broccoli Crunch Salad. It really is everywhere. It sits on salad bars in every corner of North America. You can buy a kit to make it in your local big box store. 

There is nothing really wrong with it. It is, usually, pretty tasty. A creamy dressing with some sweetness and some tang coat raw broccoli florets (I really don’t like that word), tossed with some sort of nut, raisins or dried cranberries adding some extra sweetness, and usually there is some salty bacon in there. It ticks all the boxes of taste and texture to qualify as a salad. I’ll even admit to scoffing quite a lot of it more than once or twice.

The thing is is that when I eat salad, I want to feel a little virtuous; a little bit like I am doing my body a favour. The creamy dressing and bacon while tasty, sometimes measure up a little heavy.

The raw broccoli is really delicious but I am going to admit that I think it is a little bit like hard work. I know it sounds like I want all the benefits without the effort but my jaw is almost sore after eating it sometimes. I knew that steaming the broccoli would wind up in a big soggy mistake unless it was treated to nothing but the shortest of steam baths. Roasting the broccoli, like I do cauliflower, seemed like a good and flavour intensifying idea though. You can still preserve some of the crunch as well.

To be honest, I have been roasting all of our brassicas, even the cauliflower for cauliflower and cheese. Everyone has been eating it up.

I lightened up the dressing for the salad by using a slightly sweet vinaigrette with a little bit of nuttiness from some toasted sesame oil. There will be twice as much vinaigrette as you need but it is a handy thing to have in your fridge, just store it in the jar you shake it in. The raisins and onions soak in the vinaigrette for as long as you have time to let them. The raisins plump and the onions mellow so the longer they soak the plumper and mellower your salad will be.

I skipped the bacon, to much guffawing, but you could easily toss some in if you need it. 

This makes quite a lot but two adults and two children polished all but a tiny bit off in one meal.

Roasted Broccoli Salad

8 cups broccoli cut into small flowerlike pieces

2 tablespoons olive oil

1/2 teaspoon salt

Fresh ground black pepper to taste

1/2 cup diced red onion

1/2 cup raisins

1/2 cup toasted almond slivers

Vinaigrette

2 tablespoons grainy mustard

1 tablespoon honey

1/4 cup white wine vinegar

1/3 cup olive oil

1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil

1/4 teaspoon salt

Fresh ground black pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 450º.

Toss the broccoli pieces with 2 tablespoons olive oil, salt and pepper. Place on a baking sheet and roast for about 15 minutes, until they are spot browned. Remove from oven and cool.

Put the ingredients for the vinaigrette in a jar that will hold at least 250ml (1 cup). Put the lid on the jar and shake until the vinaigrette is emulsified. Check the bottom of the jar and make sure that all the honey is mixed in and isn’t stuck to the bottom.

In a medium bowl, use whatever bowl you want to serve this in, soak the raisins and onions in about 1/2 cup of the vinaigrette.

Just before serving, toss the roasted and cooled broccoli and the toasted almonds in the vinaigrette.

What? Cauliflower Cake?

I discovered this while I was catching up on some posts from the Guardian food section one night. I should have been sleeping but it seemed such a shame to let all that peace and quiet and perfectly good reading time go to waste. I wound up reading it and thought I would file it away, by file I mean forget about in my ‘spirited’ daughter addled brain, for supper some day.

Turns out, some day came sooner than I thought. It came in the form of our say-goodbye-to-my-beautiful-bamboo-counterscape dinner rolled into a last-big-gong-show-before-we-leave-all-of-our-friends-for-six-months dinner. It also came because I needed something to sop up the beef and chestnut and the spicy butternut and lentil stew juices.

Because I am trying to empty the cupboards before we go seasonless in CA, and I will be countertopless for the rest of the week, I didn’t want to wind up with any leftovers. I wanted something a little different though and I remembered, miraculously enough, that I had seen this cauliflower cake thingy somewhere. After a mildly frenzied interweb look around, I found it or remembered where it was. 

I was alarmed that it asked for 10 eggs. I needed to make two and I had exactly four eggs in the house. I had decided that this was what we were having for supper though and continued some by-now-not-so-mildly frenzied (Little Daughter was underfoot and Big Daughter’s return from a friend’s house was imminent) interweb search until I found something the contents of my cupboards and fridge could cope with.

I was not skeptical, Big Daughter was when she got wind of what was going on. The recipe struck me as a little bland but I had remedied that, I hoped, with the addition of more cheese than it called for, a lot of grainy mustard and some finely sliced onion.

Turns out, Big Daughter changed her tune. It is pretty delicious. It has a really great texture like a cross between cake and fritatta but the ground almonds keep it from getting gummy.

I used some 2 year old cheddar because let’s face it, cauliflower and cheddar cheese were pretty much made for each other. I used Kozlik’s Double C mustard but any good grainy mustard would be fine.

I doubled the original recipe, which was lucky, because breakfast was ready for the next day. I even cooked bacon to go with it - big brownie points with Big Daughter. She was putty in my hands for all of about forty-two seconds.

Which leads me to what I may do next time, not that this isn’t really delicious as it is. I keep thinking about roasting the cauliflower with caraway seeds and adding sauteed onion to the batter. I also think that some lardons, that’s bacon bits in English, as Croque-Camille forgets in the recipe I started from, would also make it kind of perfectly meal-like.

Cauliflower Cake adapted from Chou-Fleur de Bretagne by Croque-Camille

1 head cauliflower

2 cups grated old cheddar cheese

4 eggs

1/3 cup + 1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon olive oil (plus some for roasting the cauliflower)

2 tablespoons grainy mustard 

1 cup flour

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 1/4 cup almond meal

1/2 teaspoon salt (plus a little for roasting the cauliflower)

Freshly ground black pepper

1/2 cup milk

Thinly sliced onion rings

Preheat oven to 350º.

Break the cauliflower into florets and put it on a baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper and toss. Put it in the oven and roast, tossing once or twice, for about twenty minutes or until cauliflower is tender and starting to brown.

Oil two 8-inch round cake tins.

Whisk the eggs, olive oil and mustard together in a large bowl.

In a separate bowl, mix the flour, baking powder, almond meal, salt and some pepper.

Add half the milk to the eggs, then half the flour mixture, half the milk and the remaining flour, thoroughly mixing between each addition.

Fold in the cauliflower and cheese. 

Pour into the baking pans and top with the onion slices.

Bake for 35 minutes.

Remove from oven and cool on a rack for a few minutes. Loosen edges from pan and carefully remove the cake from the pan and serve in wedges.

Every Now and Then, You've Got to Give it up for The Domestic Goddess

I don’t profess to be any sort of domestic goddess. I think that there is a certain level of domestic perfection that comes only from the assistance of paid help, PAs, housekeepers, nannies and/or au pairs, drivers and personal shoppers, none of which I can justify or afford. Those of us that can, are able to live in a mythical world of tidiness, beautiful food, perfectly dressed and clean children and cashmere twinsets where, even if I could, I don’t think I would fit in. I like messy kids and my boobs aren’t really twin set friendly. (Did I just say boobs on a food blog?)

Every now and then though, I find I am looking longingly at the doyenne of goddesslike domesticity, envying her bevvy of staff and wishing that, even if it was just for a few moments, I had that kind of opportunity to create perfect cakes and make men swoon and women jealous just by saying ‘butter and sugar’ through my perfectly red pout or by licking something delicious off a perfectly manicured finger.

Instead of this vision, I am usually asked by my husband or eldest child if I know that I have a banana hand print on my shirt or something in my hair or food stuck to my chin. Plus, without my make-up team and stylist, my skin isn’t so smooth and dewy and my outfit is usually more wrinkled than not and on good days, but not always, stain and spot free. So, even if I could do the voice, I would wind up looking and sounding a little more slummy mummy than yummy mummy.

But try as I might to dismiss The Domestic Goddess altogether, I can’t. She, or her team, sometimes do great food. Several cake recipes I regularly use are hers. Sure, I give them a little tweak every now and then but generally the recipes are pretty perfect and not too complex and rarely disappoint. So, it is to an old Nigella recipe that I turned when I wanted to make a cake for tea that wasn’t too heavy and tasted summery. I also had some laboriously hand-picked raspberries that I wanted to add and I remembered at the end of the recipe, which was cut out of a UK magazine at least eight years ago, that she says, in the way only Nigella could, ‘I can’t stop myself murmuring ‘raspberries alongside’ to you either.’ I decided that if they would be good alongside, they would be even better in.

Mine got a little dark around the edge, which annoyed me, but it has strengthened my determination to remember to pick up an oven thermometer and to remember to set a timer. 

I used the metric measurements given but measured it out in cups for those of you without a scale. Just use the same measurements throughout, if you start with grams, weigh all the ingredients in grams, etc.

Damp Lemon and Almond Cake with Raspberries adapted from a Nigella Lawson recipe I clipped out of a magazine a long, long time ago (serves 8)

225 grams (8 ounces or 1 cup) soft butter (I used salted, the original called for unsalted)

225 grams (8 ounces or 1 1/4 cup) granulated sugar (use caster sugar if you have it)

4 large eggs

50 grams (2 ounces or 1/4 + 1/3 of 1/4 cup (1/12??) all purpose flour

225 grams (8 ounces or 2 cups) ground almonds

1/2 teaspoon almond essence

grated zest and juice of two lemons

about 2/3 pint of raspberries (a few more or less isn’t going to hurt)

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line and butter a 8-9 inch springform cake tin.

Cream together the butter and sugar until almost white. One at a time, beat in the eggs. Between each egg, add a quarter of the flour until it is fully incorporated. Stir the ground almonds and then add the almond essence, lemon zest and lemon juice.

Pour half the batter into the cake tin and arrange half the raspberries, saving the nicest ones for the top. Pour the remaining batter on top of the raspberries and spread it with a spatula. Arrange the rest of raspberries on top and gently push them into the batter a bit, not too far. 

Put cake in the oven and bake for about an hour.  You may need to cover it with foil after about half an hour so it doesn’t burn. It is done when a tester comes out with some damp crumbs and the top is firm. remove from the oven and cool.

This cake will keep, and Nigella thinks it is better when it is a few days old. We ate it the next day and it was just fine.

* Sorry for lack of baking process photos. I don’t have enough hands sometimes.