chocolate caramel tart with grey sea salt

this morning, with my eyes barely open,

i did one of my favorite saturday morning activities:

i stayed in bed, smelling the coffee downstairs

and listening to the food network.

then, tyler told me his plans for the

next 30 minutes:

beef bourguignon (yum - even as a non-meat eater

i can appreciate the unbelievable-ness of beef

bourguignon) and poached pears (yum, again)

in chocolate sauce. wait, what?

why would he do that to the poor pear?

i asked larry with my eyes still shut.

i went on a rant about how people

always want to add chocolate to

things they shouldn't and they just

can't leave well enough - like a perfectly

fragrant poached pear - alone.

as larry went to go get the coffee,

i thought about fruity desserts versus

chocolate desserts and how i normally

pick the former to make

unless i'm cooking specifically for

someone else. and, that i still pull

and save chocolate recipes for

special occasions, even though

i would never ordinarily make

them, were i only baking for myself.

(however, i can't even think of the

last time i baked just for me. do

people do that?)

take this chocolate caramel tart

with grey sea salt that i made

for my father's birthday last week.

i have mentally bookmarked this

recipe three times:

first, in saveur.

second, when written about in lottie and doof.

and third, when last night's dinner told the story

of her wedding cake and anniversary celebration.

really, though, every time i have

the opportunity to make a dessert,

there are so many things i want to make,

like cookies, fruit crumbles and summer puddings.

but, when my sisters and i decided to

host dinner for my father's birthday last week,

before i decided on

the arugula, grape and gorgonzola salad,

the turkey meatballs with penne

or the cheese and scallion toasts,

i claimed the tart as the official birthday dessert.

after checking with my sisters to make

sure that my father wouldn't be offended,

considering that he would be

served a tart on his birthday

instead of a traditional frosted cake,

i headed to lottie and doof to print

the recipe. and then i paid closer

attention to the story behind his tart

and the comments that followed the recipe:

the crust that was hard to roll out,

the caramel that was possibly delicious

or possibly a little flavorless and the

ganache that seemed straightforward.

and most notably, it was not the saveur version,

but instead, the one published in diner's journal.

it lead me to closely examine the saveur version,

realizing that this one called for using

a candy thermometer on the caramel - something

i never do unless marshmallows are involved -

and that the crust was a mix and press,

not a roll and fit. hmmm.

my dad's birthday was on a saturday.

this tart, simple, but with lots of steps

and lots of chilling, made me realize

that i better start on friday. but by

friday afternoon, when i went shopping,

i still wasn't sure which version to make.

luckily, a lot of the ingredients were

already in the house and the discrepancy

between the two - quantity-wise - wasn't

so crazy that i had to make a decision

before buying everything.

after a lot of time stuck in jersey shore traffic

trying just to get home,

playing the recipes over and over in my head,

i had a plan:

saveur crust.

lottie and doof caramel.

saveur ganache.

fleur de sel a la lottie and doof.

the crust

was simple enough to

mix together,

if you don't count the

botched separated egg.

sure, it wasn't gorgeous

when pressed into the pan,

but i reasoned that people

(read: my family) would only

really see the outer crust.

and, i believed

that even that top part

would look

better after baking.

i don't know why.

so, i chilled the dough,

pierced it all over with a fork

and baked it, hoping

that i wouldn't regret a stay

in the oven sans dried beans

or pie weights.

with about four minutes left

to bake, i noticed a huge

bubble. by the time i pulled

it out, there were four more.

but, luck was on my side.

i grabbed the camera to take

a picture of my deformed crust

and by the time i got the lens in focus,

all the bubbles had deflated.

once the crust was cooled,

i set to work on the caramel,

by far the part of the tart i was

most nervous about. caramel,

as i'm sure you know, can go from

sugar water to a burnt sticky mess in

the blink of an eye and i was determined

to pour it into the crust while it

was still in the amber family.

this was one of the main reasons i

chose not to use the saveur caramel -

many reviewers mentioned that theirs

burnt while waiting to reach the correct

temperature. i only wanted to make

this filling once and i've had a feeling for a while

that my candy thermometer is slightly off,

in need of recalibration. i'd much prefer

a recipe that goes by color, even if it meant

more opportunity for personal error.

and while its true that the color jumped quickly

from clear to lightly golden to dark brown,

i'm glad i used this method. there was

an extra tablespoon of creme fraiche

and a little extra heavy cream, too.

two things that i thought would help

me possibly mellow out the flavor

and potentially firm consistency if i went

too far while simmering. at the last minute,

i worried that it would be too bland and

i sprinkled in a few pinches of kosher salt,

which i'm glad about, but i wish i had had

the guts to add even more.

otherwise, i obeyed the recipes.

i held my breath as i poured the caramel

into the crust, cringing as the hot liquid

reached the very top of the crust. and then,

as luck would have it - or a well written

recipe would indicate - it fit perfectly.

i let it cool, then placed the whole thing

in the fridge, ignoring it until morning.

a minute later, i was jumping up

and down in the kitchen. it was weird.

but, i can admit, completely

true to form.

i planned to use fleur de sel on top

of the tart because that was all i owned.

i really preferred the idea of grey sea salt

called for in the saveur recipe -

doesn't it sound all glamorous and

delicious? - but i refused to buy an extra

salt for one recipe. then, as i opened a

cabinet to put the vanilla extract away,

i saw a container and turned it around,

curious of its contents. grey sea salt.

in spite of having a much more intimate

relationship with everything i own

thanks to our recent move - i had no

idea whatsoever that it was part of my spice

collection.

(seriously, i just looked here

and i still can't spot the tin.) i texted my

sister who really tried her best to act

like she didn't think i was crazy and like

she really was just as excited by

grey sea salt as i was.

when i got home from food shopping

the next morning, i made the ganache -

the only part i wasn't worried about.

i smoothed it over the tart the best

i could, wishing at the last minute

that i had used my offset spatula

instead of the regular one, and placed it

in the fridge to set. steps, people.

they're your best friend when baking.

hours later,

i enlisted one sister to distract my father

and the other to help me remove the

pan's removable bottom from the tart.

we got the cake plate ready and while

i did my best to explain to erin why

we did have to remove the bottom, i grabbed

two spatulas. but, this is one sturdy tart.

with just a little jiggle, the crust was free

and it was so not scary to place it

on the cake plate. instead of sprinkling

the individual pieces, i sprinkled

(grey!) salt over the entire top.

after happy birthday was sung,

i took my millionth deep breath

and cut into the tart. i had read -

that for some, in both versions -

the caramel had pooled out

immediately after

the first slice was removed.

but, luck was really on my side with this

dessert - the tart cut into perfect

wedges and while the caramel bulged

a bit, it stayed put, wedged firmly

between the chocolate crust and

the chocolate ganache.

i asked (ok, made) everyone to wait a few

minutes before digging in, thinking

that while it was best sliced cold,

it was probably best enjoyed with

the caramel slightly softer.

and, then the ganache began to slide

off the top, so i started yelling,

eat, eat, eat! i'm a little difficult.

in one of the reviews (have i started

to sound like an article in cook's illustrated yet?),

i had read that this tart was basically,

a glorified twix bar. and in some

ways, that's true. but, a twix

bar doesn't boast crystals of

salt and it wouldn't mark

a special occasion at most

dinner tables. the other thing

about a twix is that a bite

doesn't come with crazy high

expectations, like this dessert did.

everyone said they liked it - i

even got a this is my type of dessert

from erin and a reassurance from my

father that he was ok eating a tart

instead of a cake on his birthday.

but, i wanted a little more oomph.

sure, it was pretty and rich and

chocolaty. but, i wished for more

salt in the crust and caramel

and a couple

splashes of vanilla extract in the

latter. larry says often that i have

high expectations and that the tart

was good. here's the thing:

i was hoping for a dessert

that would not just be good,

but one that would be remarkably

memorable.

i wanted the kind of dessert

that would maybe even make

a poached pear lover add a pool

of chocolate sauce because she

remembers that the last time

she had a chocolate dessert,

it was life changing.

but, like i said, i sometimes

have high expectations.

chocolate caramel tart with grey sea salt

adapted from saveur, diner journal and lottie and doof

i need to say that i think this was a very good tart. it's just that if i make this again, i would follow my instincts and up the salt in the crust (and use table salt instead of the coarser kosher), then add salt and vanilla extract into the caramel. i think this was one of those cases in which a few extras go a very long way. the saveur version called for chilling five hours in between each step; the diner's journal version calls for chilling until firm. i followed the former's advice, which while perfectly fine was probably somewhat unnecessary.

oh, and as for sprinkling the salt on each slice, i understand. i loved the visual of adding it to the entire thing. but, four days later, when larry offered me a bite of his leftover slice, i had already forgotten about the visual, and really, the salt altogether. it had melted into the chocolate, creating a slick top that offered a surprisingly salty bite.

crust:

1 1/2 cups flour

5 tablespoons unsweetened dutch-processed cocoa powder

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

10 tablespoons unsalted butter, cubed and softened

10 tablespoons (1/2 cup, plus 2 tablespoons) confectioners' sugar

2 egg yolks, at room temperature

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

caramel:

1/2 cup water

2 cups granulated sugar

1/4 cup light corn syrup

1/2 cup heavy cream

1 stick unsalted butter, cubed

2 tablespoons creme fraiche

ganache:

1/2 cup heavy cream

4 ounces bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped

grey sea salt, coarse sea salt or fleur de sel

in bowl, combine flour, cocoa powder and salt.

in separate large bowl using hand mixer, beat butter and sugar 2 minutes, or until mixture is combine, pale and fluffy. add yolks and vanilla extract; mix to combine. stir in dry ingredients, just until combined. place dough in 9" fluted tart pan with removable bottom; press evenly into bottom and up sides of pan. chill in fridge 30 minutes. meanwhile, heat oven to 350˚f.

place tart pan on baking sheet; pierce crust all over with fork; bake 20 minutes, or until firm, dry and fully cooked through. transfer to rack; let cool.

in large saucepot, stir together water, sugar and corn syrup. cook over medium-high heat 10-20 minutes, or until mixture reaches a medium-amber color, swirling occasionally. (you ultimately want a caramel that's a bit darker and deeper in color, but it does continue to cook after you remove it from the heat.) remove saucepot from heat. carefully drizzle in heavy cream, then the butter, then the creme fraiche (the mixture will bubble). stir until smooth. pour the caramel into the cooled crust. let sit until cool and firm; transfer to fridge and chill 4 hours, or until very firm.

place chopped chocolate in small bowl. in small saucepot, bring heavy cream to a boil. pour cream over chocolate; let sit 3 minutes. using spatula, slowly stir mixture, starting in the center, until the cream and chocolate come together. pour ganache over tart; use spatula to spread and smooth. chill tart for several hours.

when ready to serve, remove the sides and bottom of the tart pan (trick: place the tart on top of a large can and gently wiggle off the side). cut tart into wedges; sprinkle with salt. wait 5-10 minutes before serving slices.

berry summer pudding

there have been several times

since starting the blog

that i've been more than

grateful for the name

i assigned this space over

two years ago - originally wanting

to title my journal whatever it

would become: something

that was appropriate,

meaningful,

true and with a back story.

and, not lazy. rustic.

has been good to me on

many occasions - but never,

i think so much as right now,

thanks to this funky looking

summer pudding.

it looks bad. i know.

did you consider not even

reading the recipe when you

saw the picture?

wait until you see the one

below - it was almost enough

to make me not write about it.

but then something happened

that changed my mind:

i had a bite.

and it was too good not to

talk about.

--

i feel like over the course of my

writing here, i have not

necessarily been fair to the

magazine that i used to work for.

it's true - i had a hard time there

in many ways for many years.

but, that job gave me a lot

of things that i would be a fool

to not recognize:

it gave me amazing friends

who are an important part of

my life in many ways.

it made me realize that i wanted

to always work in a field that

involved food in some way.

my experiences were a major impetus in my

decision to go to culinary school.

it taught me to be tough and

believe in myself just a little bit.

it - i think - made me a better boss,

in my current position

than i would have been without

those tough experiences.

and, most relevant today, working

at the magazine taught me about

summer pudding.

i had never heard of summer pudding

before the day that i walked up to the

text kitchen for our daily tasting, at least

seven years ago. my mom made a lot of

bread pudding while i was growing up, but i had never

had this cold version, made without

vanilla or milk or even eggs, and instead

several pints of berries.

in fact, when i first took i bite,

i had no idea that bread was even part of

the dessert. it was purple - fresh and sweet -

and somehow - it all clung together.

i thought there must be gelatin.

but, no, our test kitchen director, said.

no gelatin, just natural pectin from the

blueberries that are released when

simmered together.

i was in love.

and the best part was this - magazines work

months ahead of time. for a recipe to get on

the page, it has to be conceptualized, tested several

times until it's perfect, recreated for the camera,

written about, edited and sent to press. so it

is quite normal to start working on halloween in

april or may. i often made promises to myself that

when the recipe was in season, i would make it

at home. i think that maybe happened three times.

in six years.

instead, almost every summer we published

a variation - sometimes using

only raspberries or a combination of

every berry you could think of, sometimes

the bread was layered between the fruit

and other times the puddings were formed

as minis in little ramekins instead of one

large souffle dish.

every year i promised myself i would make

one at home. but, you already know that i

never did. then this year, i was talking to

my friend and he mentioned that his wife

was going to make a berry trifle - i'm not

sure why, but that triggered my memory.

summer pudding was on.

--

i knew that although the flavors meld

together creating one super berry,

i wanted to only use

strawberries and blueberries,

my favorite of the berries. unfortunately,

all of my copies of the magazine

are packed away, so i needed to find

a recipe calling for just those two

from somewhere else. as often happens,

epicurious is my best friend,

and it featured a recipe from

bon appetit for

strawberry and blueberry summer pudding.

so, i picked out gorgeous ruby red

strawberries and huge, plump

blueberries.

larry and i scoured the bread aisle

in search of a "hearty white bread,"

wanting to make sure that the dessert

was not gummy, but also, that

the juice would seep through to the

bottom as it sat overnight.

the recipe specifically said

pepperidge farm and i decided

this was not the time to be

creative, so i picked up the firmest

loaf the brand provided.

the evening i was making this,

we had dinner plans and i had

to move fast. while i sliced

the strawberries, larry

measured out blueberries.

after larry took a fork away from

me and started breaking down the strawberries

with a masher (um, hello, brooke), i

simmered and stirred the blueberries.

while i lined the bowl with bread slices,

larry played odb and jay-z on itunes.

ok, maybe something went a little wrong

there, but at least he was still in

the kitchen with me.

the bread lining. i knew it wouldn't be

beautiful. it involved straight lines,

perfect fits. in some ways, i was very proud

of the job i did. in other ways, i knew

i should have done better. i looked at it this

way: there was a bowl, it was lined with bread.

victory.

i poured in the blueberry and strawberry

mixture and covered with the top layer of bread.

i covered it with plastic wrap, grabbed a plate

that was slightly smaller than the bowl and tried

to top it with four pounds of canned goods,

which was the hardest part of this whole thing.

then, i spent the next 24 hours

watching it, adjusting the placement of

the cans, switching out the tiny plate for

a large plate and sometimes, just pushing

on it myself. i could see that only select

spots were turning purple, instead of the

entire thing. it wasn't looking good.

but, it was what i made and i refused

to turn my back. just before dessert,

i tossed heavy cream in a bowl

with sour cream and beat them together,

adding a few shakes of confectioners' sugar.

mmm, delicious. if nothing else,

everyone could eat this tangy whipped cream

by the spoonful.

next, i unmolded the pudding.

the good news was that it worked:

the dessert held its shape, instead

of collapsing into a heap, spilling

everywhere, as could have happened.

the bad news was that it looked like this:

i stared at it.

my mom walked over and told me,

as moms do, that she was sure it would

still taste great. oh well.

to my surprise, it actually cut into wedges.

and even more to my surprise,

everyone really seemed to enjoy this

ugly, ugly dessert:

bursting with berries,

sweet and fresh.

just like i remembered.

berry summer pudding

adapted from bon appetit magazine

next time i try this, i'm considering three things: the first would be to strain the berry mixture slightly, reserving the juices to pour over the top in case berries don't seep through, again. my other two thoughts would be to either, gently dip the bread into the simmered berries to get a jumpstart or to just mix the bread in with the berries, instead of layering it on the bottom (but, i'm not so sure that one would work). or, if i decide to just embrace the tie-dyed look, i could make it the same way all over again.

the original recipe called for buttering the bread before adding the fruit, but i've never seen a summer pudding recipe call for butter and it seemed unnecessary, so i left it out.

2 pounds strawberries, hulled and sliced

6 tablespoons granulated sugar, divided

pinch of salt

1 pound of blueberries (about 3 heaping cups)

12 slices firm white bread, crusts removed

in large bowl using potato masher, mash strawberries, 2 tablespoons sugar and salt into a puree.

in medium saucepot over medium heat, stir together blueberries and remaining sugar 7 minutes, or until sugar dissolves and the blueberries start to release their juices. increase heat to high and bring to a boil; boil 5 minutes, or until mixture thickens slightly, stirring often. remove from heat. stir in strawberry mixture. set aside.

line 6-cup bowl with three sheets of plastic wrap, leaving at least a six-inch overhang. line bowl with bread, cutting slices to cover bowl completely. pour in berry mixture. top with remaining bread slices. fold plastic wrap over bread. place plate over bowl. (just a note: the recipe instructed to use a slightly smaller plate than the open bowl, but after a few hours, it just didn't make much sense to me, so i switched to a larger plate. that still didn't work, but at least i felt better about my chances.) weigh down with 4 pounds of canned goods or dried beans. chill at least 12 hours.

to serve, i blended together heavy cream, two spoonfuls of sour cream and a couple shakes of confectioners' sugar until peaks formed. i didn't measure - sometimes there just isn't a reason to. once the cream was whipped, i unwrapped the plastic wrap and unmolded onto a plate. the pudding cut into wedges, but i was prepared to scoop, if necessary.

note: my sisters, who ate the leftovers a couple days later said it was even better after a few days of sitting. they also mentioned that the bread did turn purple. small victories, i guess.