Mango: Part Four ~ Mango Mousse Cake ~

This is actually from back in August when I made them for my dad’s birthday dinner, but I had to share since I'm so proud of them! On his birthday, my mom and grandparents were also in town to help my sister move up north, so we all got together at my place to celebrate with some of Obachan’s (grandma's) home cooking and desserts by their favorite pastry chef--me.  At least I tell myself that.

Since it was still summer, I though I’d go with something refreshing. And since I wanted to impress them, I thought I’d be overly ambitious and attempt a recipe by Toshi Yoroizuka, the same chef that created my failed fig mousse cake, although to no fault of his own. I reiterate that his recipe was delicious. I’m the one that made a mistake somewhere so the mousse didn’t set, except I can’t remember where I went wrong.  I still ended up with a great fig frozen mousse ice cream thing though. Yeah...

Anyway, so this is what it's supposed to look like: Yoroizuka's Mango Banana Mousse Cake.

And here's the recipe in Japanese.

If you can read or decipher French, here's the handwritten recipe.

The top layer is a mango mousse.  The middle one is a banana mousse with a hint of pineapple, filled with pineapple chunks.  The bottom is a coconut dacquoise, the first dacquoise I’ve ever made. Everything came out well.  You could really taste all the individual fruit flavors, and the texture of the coconut in the dacquoise just brought everything together.  Nothing was too sweet, and it was perfectly delicate in that Japanese-French way.  

I don't have hundreds of molds so mine ended up being circles instead of that fancy square layer thing Yoroizuka does.  One day.

I made the full recipe this time, which means I ended up with a lot of leftover mousse and cake. I made a mental note to only make a half recipe the next time. But as I found out with the fig mousse, I really only need to do a third or a fourth of his recipes. Now I just need to figure out which one of his 175+ recipes he has up online that I want to attempt...



Mango: Part Three ~ Mango Macarons ~

I had left over mango puree from the Mango Purin so I decided to practice making macarons again.  I want to perfect my mixing and piping techniques which means I have to make them as often as I can.

I used my usual macaron recipe and made a standard 1:2:3 ration Swiss buttercream (1 part egg, 2 parts sugar, 3 parts butter) then added in the leftover mango puree, tasting until it felt mango-y enough.

The macarons came out well!  I still have to work on piping them so they’re smooth on top and even in size, but the texture was the best I’ve ever achieved.  I think I now know the exact amount of mixing that’s required, or at least I think I do.  I need to make another batch as soon as my oven’s fixed to test it out.

But cheers for a successful batch!

Mango: Part Two ~ Mango "Purin" ~

In Japanese, we call them “purin” ( プリン), which basically is the japanese-a-fied pronunciation of the word pudding. There are various types of purin, and anything that is a custard texture inevitably is named this whether it’s actually a pots de creme, a flan, a panna cotta, or a creme brulee minus the burnt sugar crust. Side Note: panna cotta’s in Japan are often actually called panna cotta, but you’ll often see a “milk purin” that is really just a panna cotta. So even that isn’t constant. 

The purin I made isn’t egg based and isn’t baked. It uses gelatin so it’s really a mango panna cotta, but I used a Japanese recipe and we Japanese love mango purin, so I’m calling it that. Accept it.  (Please)

Mango Purin is pretty much the same thing as what dim sum restaurants call mango tofu. Don’t worry, we don’t claim it as one of our own. We love it but we know it comes from Hong Kong cuisine.

It’s fitting that the most famous version in Japan is from The Peninsula Hotel in Ginza since the Peninsula hotel group is a Hong Kong company.  Hopefully I’ll get to eat one myself when I go to Tokyo in December.  I’ve been reading about it for years.

My version isn’t quite as fancy as theirs but it has all the same elements: the custard, the sauce, and the fresh mango chunks. The mango flavor wasn’t quite as pronounced in the custard as I would have liked so next time I need to increase the amount of mango puree used. Also, I would use more whipping cream next time. This version was heavy on milk, and since I only had skim milk I used that. Big mistake. I needed to go all out and use whole milk. It's dessert after all. This was good, just not as good as it could’ve been.

That’s okay. I’ll get my fix in December. Plus, there’s always mango season again next year.

Mango: Part One ～ Mango Creem Cheese Pie ～

My mom is a great cook.  My grandma’s an even better one.  But neither is much of a baker so growing up, all the homemade cookies and treats we had were made by one of my “aunties”--Aunty L, Aunty C, and Aunty A.  These three ladies are some of my mom’s oldest friends, and they are fabulous bakers. 

According to my memory bank, Aunty A and Aunty C made the best cookies, especially crispy, buttery ones like Aunty A’s cornflake cookies.  Aunty L made the BEST banana bread.  But the most memorable dessert is this mango cheesecake that Aunty L would make for us from time to time.  It had a buttery crust, a cream cheesy middle, and the top layer was a clear jello filled with fresh chunks of local Hawaii mangoes.  It was one of my favorite desserts growing up.  It’s nothing refined or fancy, but it’s fresh, not too sweet, and so local.

A couple of weeks ago, my mom finally mailed me the recipes from Aunty L.  Score!  I promptly bought some mangoes even though they aren’t exactly in season, nor were they on sale, but I couldn’t help it.

The recipe was even simpler than I thought.  It’s a bit time consuming since there are three parts to it, but each layer isn’t too complicated.  And I learned I have to be careful when pouring the mango jello mixture on top.  I’m using a ladle the next time I make this.  For this first attempt, I accidentally poured from the mixing bowl and it made the cream cheese layer splatter a bit, creating little white flecks through the jello.  Not the prettiest look to have...

It tasted just like I remembered though.  Aunty L’s were always cut a little nicer, and they of course didn’t have little white flecks of cream cheese in the jello part, but it still made me think of all the happy times growing up with my family back in Hawaii.  

I’m definitely making this again when it’s mango season!

Mango ~ an introduction ~

                        

    

Meet my friend Mangifera indica, otherwise known as Mango. M’s another fruit with a long family history with some religious significance. They’ve been around for at least 4000 years, and they’re indigenous to India, making it fitting that Siddhartha meditated under mango trees in his quest to become Buddha. India’s hot, humid, tropical weather is ideal for this orange member of the cashew and pistachio family. It’s also why Hawaii is the perfect place for them too.

Back in Hawaii, people with mango trees in their yard would start picking them around May to make mango chutney. I remember my junior year of high school going to various houses to pick buckets of green mangos to turn into Punahou Carnival’s famous mango chutney.  Mango trees are huge and bear a lot of fruit, so most people were glad that the junior class would come by every year to decrease their yield. Because once those guys start ripening, they will fall off the tree and make a rotting juicy mess all around the yard if you’re not careful!

My family always ate mangoes fresh, but my Aunty L would occasionally make these mango cheesecake bars for our family that I LOVED. Little did I know back then that while I was eating a sugary dessert, they actually also had a lot of Vitamin C. Mangoes deliver about 80% of your daily Vitamin C needs per serving. They also have some Vitamin A, but only 25% per serving. One cup surprisingly only has about 110 calories. I don’t know about you but I always thought the fruit was more caloric than that since it’s just so sweet!

Tommy Atkins is the most popular cultivar in the US. Best from March-July then again from October-January. They originated in Florida back in the 1920s. They’re red with some green and yellow/orange sections, depending on their mood.

The Kent’s also another popular one here in the states. Sometimes it likes to put a little rouge on it’s dark green cheeks. These guys are sweeter than the Tommy Atkins and are best January through March, and again from June to August.

Keitt is the one you find most often in Asia. Best from August to September, and the sweet fruity flesh covered by a green skin is perfectly tropical.

Haden is big in Mexico, and naturally so with a bright red exterior with yellow and green accents.

Ataulfo / Champagne mangoes are also from Mexico.  These little yellow guys are very sweet and creamy. Delicate little buggers they are.

Francis comes to us from Haiti.  It has a bright yellow skin with streaks of green, and it’s sweet, with a little kick.

By now, I hope you can tell that color is not an indicator of ripeness when it comes to mangoes because they come in all different shades. The best way to tell if they’re sweet and juicy is to gently squeeze them. Usually they’ll smell mango-y too. I bought some sweet smelling, slightly soft to the touch mangoes myself so will return soon with my creations.

Figs: Part Six ~ A Neighbor's Fig Tree ~

 

My oven is still broken.

Right after making the newtons, I geared myself up to make some fig macarons for my last fig post.  I measured the cookie ingredients and made the fig buttercream filling by mixing some leftover homemade fig puree/jam (from the fig newtons) with a standard swiss buttercream.  I was all set to go when I woke up the next morning to find that my oven wouldn't get hot.  

It's one thing to take a cookie sheet of already made newtons to a friend's house to stick it in her oven.  It's quite another to make macaron batter, pipe it out, let it sit, bake it in multiple batches, then let it cool.

It's been a week now and after two visits by the building handyman, it still hasn't been fixed.

Grrr.

Since I have other things to post, I leave my fig friends behind with some pictures of a neighbor's fig tree.  I only just noticed its existence a couple weeks ago even though I've been jogging by it for the past year and a half...

But it's pretty neat to see how they actually grow. 

 

Bye bye Mr. Fig.  See you again soon.

Figs: Part Five ~ Fig Newtons ~

Even Nabisco doesn’t seem to have one singular solid story of where the Fig Newton originated from, but the best version states that a baker by the name of Charles Roser came up with the recipe for the fig filled biscuit. Then in 1892, James Henry Mitchell patented a machine that was able to insert fig paste inside pastry dough. The machine was like a funnel within a funnel, continually spitting out fig paste and cookie dough, creating an endless filled cookie that could be cut into individual pieces. Imagine if Nabisco sold foot long Fig Newtons. Amazing. I mean, they’re capable of it. They should. I’d buy a box. I might be the only one buying it though. And I’d buy just one box. Clearly this is the greatest business proposition ever.

Sorry for that tangent. To continue, the rest of the story has to do with the name. If the supposed inventors were a Roser and a Mitchell, why a Newton? Well, the original maker of the cookie was the Kennedy Biscuit Company, soon to be swallowed up into the behemoth that is Nabisco. They had a habit of naming their products after towns nearby. They already had a Shrewsbury, Harvard, and Beacon Hill product, so they chose to utilize Newton, Massachussets good name. And there you have it. The Fig Newton was born.

I love Fig Newtons but the biscuit part always seems a bit dry. And after seeing Martha Stewart’s recipe in her Cookie book, I’ve always wanted to try making it but as with all things in my life, I was just too lazy about it. Until now. I googled a bunch of recipes since I didn’t really like the one in the Cookie book. They looked like bars with all four edges showing the fig filling, not cookies that only had two open sides. I settled on one from CDKitchen.

I made the dough, rolled it out, trimmed the edges, then spooned on some filling I made from figs leftover from other projects. I had two types in the fridge. The darker one came from the Cookie book, except I improvised by using leftover fresh figs instead of dried, and my leftover figs were a mixture of Calimyrnas, Brown Turkeys, and Mission figs. I deviate from recipes. The lighter one was just something I threw together after making the mousse cake. I had leftover Brown Turkeys and Calimyrnas so dumped them in a saucepan with some sugar and simmered away. They were both nice and figgy, but the red wine one tasted more sophisticated. More adult. Guess I’m not a kid anymore.

Then it came time to bake except my oven wouldn’t turn on! I’m sure it’s just the pilot light but I’m scared of gas. I ended up driving to J’s and borrowing her oven. I felt funny driving with the cookie sheet on the passenger seat next to me. All they needed was an oven! Poor little guys.

Soon they were placed in the comforting warmth of the oven and they baked up nice and brown. I cut them while still warm to minimize crackage of the cookie dough. They didn’t turn out as the most shapely creatures, but they were tasty! The edges were a little crispy, and the filling warm and soft. And as K pointed out, they actually tasted like figs. They tasted better than the photographs make them out to be.

I still like artificial machine made scarily uniform Nabisco Fig Newtons though. Mine are better, but I’m not baking an entire batch for you for $2.50. Freshness comes with a price!

Figs: Part Four ~ Fig Crostata ~

I had some leftover crostata dough in the freezer from my baking day with J so I made a Fig and Blue Cheese mini crostata. It’s just with sliced mission figs and crumbles of blue cheese strategically placed throughout. The flavor combo was perfect, and the crust came out nice and flaky, just like the first batch. Michael Chiarello's recipe is a keeper.

Figs: Part Three ~ Fresh Fig Tartlets with Creme Patisserie & Chocolate Crust ~

Since I failed at the mousse, I ended up turning the rest of the tart crusts into these:

Basically, instead of plating the mousse dome and garnishing as was the original intent, I just dumped a bunch of diced figs on top of the creme patisserie and made fruit tartlets instead. Creme Patisserie is just the fancy name for pastry cream. They tasted great, but I was making sad faces the rest of the day. G had to keep telling me to stop being so sad but I couldn’t help it. Mousse that doesn’t set isn’t maddening or frustrating or anything other than just plain old sad...sad sad sad.

Booooooo.

Figs: Part Two ~ Fig Mousse Cake and Toshi Yoroizuka ~

This turned out to be one of the biggest disasters I’ve made in a long time. Tasted great, but the mousse DIDN’T SET! I went back and compared the recipe to other similar ones and it looks like I used enough gelatine but clearly not...I must have measured something incorrectly. After I froze and unmolded them, they slowly melted, like ice cream. Argh.

The recipe I attemped was from Toshi Yoroizuka, a famous pastry chef in Japan. He’s known as being the only Japanese person to have ever worked in a 3 star restaurant in Belgium. Whatever that really means. Regardless, his boutiques in Japan have hour long waits daily, and it’s pretty much impossible to get a seat inside the salon where he makes plated desserts in full view behind a counter. This was the second recipe of his that I attempted.

The plan was to make something that looked like this: http://grand-patissier.info/ToshiYoroizuka/recette/zoom141.htm

Granted I don’t have molds like his but below is how mine ended up. Unfortunately, with the melting going on, I only completed one of the cakes. I gave up on the other ones. I made them into tartlets instead. Fail.

In case you’re curious, the English translation of the recipe is below. Here’s the link to the original in Japanese: http://www.grand-patissier.info/ToshiYoroizuka/recette/recette141.htm

I halved everything since one thing I learned from that first recipe I attempted was that his recipes yield a LOT. I really should’ve just made a third of the recipe. I could probably even get away with making just a fourth since I only have eight molds of everything anyway, but first things first. I need to succeed at making the mousse set...bah.

Figs: Part One ~ Fig, Mascarpone, and Goat Cheese Tartlets ~

The first fig dish I attempted was something I sort of made up. A little over a year ago when I first got into baking, I had tried making Claire Clark’s Gooseberry mascarpone tart from her book Indulge: 100 Perfect Desserts. It tasted great, but I had to use grapes since gooseberries were so expensive, and I poured too much of the cheese mixture into the tart before baking so it overflowed. Needless to say, it wasn’t a pretty dessert but it did taste good, and I certainly learned from it.


I thought making that tart but with fresh figs would be delicious. There were a lot of frangipane tart recipes using figs, but I’m not the biggest fan of that almond mixture, so I decided to experiment. As I was shopping for mascarpone cheese, I spotted some goat milk cream cheese and had to go for it. I’m not the biggest proponent of goat cheese but thought the tartness, offset a bit by the mascarpone cheese, would make for a creamy companion to the sweetness of the figs.


Let me tell you, I ended up right on that one! I also substituted lemons for the oranges in the original recipe, to decrease the sweetness of the dish. I blind baked the tart shells, was careful not to overfill it with the cheese mixture, and baked it until the filling was a bit set. Then I took them out and lined up the figs. One thing I learned from the grape/gooseberry experience was that the cheese mixture inflates and covers the fruit. I wanted the figs to stay visible so I thought this might work but it’s not like I had read it in a recipe so couldn’t be sure. It turned out how I wanted, although I can’t say for certain that had I not done that that I wouldn’t have achieved the same outcome. No matter, I can do another trial next time.


I should have made the tart shells a little thicker, and I still ended up overfilling some of them, but all in all they turned out pretty well. And it tasted just like I thought it would. Pat on the back for me. Win.

Figs ~ an introduction ~

Meet Mr. Fig, more formally knows as Ficus carica. He is a native of Mesopotamia but probably has an ancestor from down south in the Arabian Peninsula. The Fig family has been around for generations--there’s fossil evidence of its existance from as far back as the Neolithic period, around 9400 BC. Food-wise, those Sumerians were probably the first to eat the little guys, around 2900 BC. Those figs like to brag how they were one of the first cultivated fruits. When they start talking about it, just nod your head and think about something else. Later on, the Greeks took members of his family west across the Meditteranean all the way over to Portugal, and by the 8th century AD, some adverturous clansmen crossed all the way to China. The Americas weren’t introduced to these guys until the Spaniards decided to go exploring.
 

Mr. Fig and his family like dry, warm places. They don’t do well when it’s cold. Weaklings. Thankfully, they are cultivated 2-3 times a year, once in the spring from the previous season’s shoots, and the new (cough, better) stuff grows in late summer/early fall.  

They’re very delicate and high maintenance though. That long standing family history makes them think they’re more important than other fruits. They have to be eaten quickly after being picked and don’t transport very well. These are not sturdy workhorses. But as much as they think so highly of themselves, I’ll let you in on a little known secret--those guys aren’t even real fruits! Those posers. Imposters I tell you. They’re actually the flower of the fig tree that is inverted into itself. As a flower, they’re duds.

Even so, they do deserve recognition for being the “fruit” that is mentioned the most in the bible. After eating the forbidden apple, Adam and Eve used fig leaves to cover their newly discovered parts. Romans cherished figs as well, especially considering that Romulus and Remus slept with their wolf mom under a fig tree.

All in all, their snobbery is a little justified. Plus, they’re high in fiber and potassium, and surprisingly have quite a bit of calcium in them. So read below to see what some of the major types are and maybe you’ll find one you like enough to make a member of your fruit family.

Adriatic: One of the more commonly seen light green or yellowish-green in color with pale pink or dark red flesh. Not as sweet as other varieties. They have an intense fig flavor when dried, but can also be eaten fresh.

Brown Turkey: These guys are probably the most commonly seen fresh figs out there. They’re medium sized with a purplish skin with a bright pink flesh. Turkey figs are my friends.

Calimyrna: They’re really called Smyrnas but those grown in the 31st state of the USA get a special name. The members of this side of the family are big, round, and have a thick, light green colored skin. The white and pink flesh inside isn’t as sweet as the rest of the clan, but when you get to know them a little better, letting them dry out, they turn soft and tender. 

Celeste: small to medium, violet skin with extremely sweet, white flesh. Good fresh or dried. are about the size of an egg, a purplish-brown when ripe, and a dark, sweet, moist, purple flesh inside.

Kadota: Their claim to faim is that they’re used to make Fig Newtons. Now aren’t they special. Medium in size with a yellow-green skin, they aren’t as sweet as the Adriatic or Mission fig, but this American version of the  
Italian Dottato fig has a bright pink center. awww.

Mission: They’re the smallest of the bunch, but with their dark purple colored exterior and their bright red flesh, they’re flavorful and spunky. They turn black when dried, so watch out. Their name comes from the Spanish missionaries who planted them up and down the California coast.

Foods to follow...

Crostata

(J's Yellow Peach, Green Plum, and Blueberry Crostatas)

J asked if we could bake together over the weekend, and I of course said yes. How could I say no to some baking?

"What do you want to bake?" I asked.

15 minutes later, she ims her reply. It's a link to Ina Garten's Summer Fruit Crostata recipe.

Crostatas hm?

I’ve made tarts before, both big and small, and I’ve made pies, but I’d never thought to make a crostata, mostly because if I’m going through the trouble of making dough--I only own a dinky little mini food processor so always do it by hand which equates to “trouble”--I might as well shape it into a pan. But J said crostata, so crostatas it was. I guessed she’d make a big full sized one (turns out she made two!) so I attempted some individual sized ones for myself. That way I could play around with the filling--I’m an experimenter after all. A visit to the farmer’s market provided some inspiration. Heirloom tomatoes, mini squash and eggplant, and everywhere--literally at every stand--there were plump, juicy, ripe plums, peaches, and nectarines. Yum.

Trusty as books like The Art and Soul of Baking are, I didn’t feel like using a recipe I’d used before so I did a bit of googling. I spotted the name “Michael Chiarello” and of course had to click on that link. His name is not one I knew of 8 months ago, and to this day I’ve still never had a chance to taste his food, but ever since my SF foodie friend told me about the wonders of Bottega in Napa, Michael Chiarello’s name always seems to catch my eye. The recipe looked good. Solid. Standard. In a good going-to-end-up-as-a-simple-but-delicious- staple kind of way. I probably wasn’t going to go wrong with an Italian chef’s recipe for an Italian dessert. Right?

I made the dough ahead of time, on Saturday, refrigerating 8 little discs of pate brisee. It was the usual process. Toss the dry ingredients together, cut in some cold unsalted butter, sprinkle a bit of ice water, and bring it all together. J came over around noon the next day, after a stop at the Hollywood Farmer’s Market, appearing with a bag of huge yellow peaches, some juicy little green plums just like the ones I got, and a big box of *cough cough* (expensive) blueberries. Sadly, that’s what happens when they’re not in season. But I’m glad she got them because they were plump, tasty, and made her crostatas colorful and gorgeous. I snagged some for my nectarine one so I really can’t fault her at all. Delish.

(One of the mini crostatas - Yellow Nectarines with blueberries swiped from J's stash)

Fruit (and butter and flour) in hand, J’s baking lesson by yours truly began. Armed with a printed copy of Ina Garten’s recipe, she measured out the dry ingredients while I stuck her box of butter back in the fridge saying we had to keep it cold. She asked why. I showed her how to cut the butter into the flour mixture using a pastry cutter. Hey, I asked if she wanted to attempt using my mini food processor. I did offer...Then she asked why one had to make sure the butter was cut into little pieces and mixed throughout the flour. I had no idea. I dropped some ice cubes in water so she could measure out three tablespoons to bring the dough together at the end. She asked why the water had to be cold. By now, I hope you realize I didn’t have the answer to that question either...

J, I now have answers for you! The butter and water have to be cold in order to keep the formation of gluten protein to a minimum. The opposite of tart crust would be bread. Bread uses warm water and a lot of kneading and a lot of hands on actions (aka warmth - since your hands are warm) to increase the formation of gluten protein. That’s what makes that yummy fluffy chewy bread texture. Crostata dough, whether it be a flaky pate brisee or a crispy pate sucre, wants to be the opposite of that. Hence cold everything, minimal handling.

Water is also something that increases gluten production. You add a bit of cold water at the end to bring the dough together, and that’s why it’s important to keep it cold. Water is also a key reason for keeping butter cold. Butter contains water. By keeping it cold, the little water droplets stay suspended within the little butter bits, keeping the water away from the gluten (aka flour). Water may increase gluten production but that can only happen if they two actually come into contact with each other!

And while water is initially the enemy, it becomes the hero once the dough hits the oven. That’s because the water evaporates during the baking process, leaving little air pockets behind. Those little pockets of air helps make everything flaky and crispy and delicious.

This evaporation is also the reason for tart/pie crusts shrinking when baking. Water evaporating leaves empty space, causing some shrinkage. But more importantly, heat from the oven facilitates the protein bonding process. When a gluten strand bonds with more gluten strands, they all bond together and link up, shrinking up to each other.

All this babbling is my long winded answer to why things must be kept cold.

Anyway, J and I finished up the dough and in between my meager attempts of teaching and imparting wisdom (which I really didn’t accomplish until typing all this out just now), I rolled out my own mini crostatas, slicing fruit and veggies, tossing them with some sugar or salt, and using up whatever cheeses I had in the fridge. While J’s dough chilled up, I baked off a couple rounds while she cut up her fruit.

(The sweet - Green Plum, Black Plum, and White Peach)

(The savory - Mini Zucchini, Mini Yellow Squash, and Mini Eggplant with lemon & olive oil; Heirloom Tomatoes; Gala Apple with White Cheddar Cheese)

An hour later, with the Law and Order SVU marathon on as background noise, I showed J how to roll out the dough. No floured boards for us. It may be modern and untraditional (or it may not be. who knows? we’ve already established I’m not the most knowledgable of bakers, but hey, that’s what this blog is for!) but it’s clean, easy, and makes it so much easier to stick the rolled out dough back in the fridge should it get too soft. The first one ended up being overstuffed and pudgy, in a good, bursting with flavor kind of way. The second still had plenty of fruit but was a bit less...zealous. Basically, it was beautiful!

And there ended up being a lot of extra fruit so after consulting The Art and Soul of Baking, I threw together 1/2 a cup of flour, 1/2 a cup of oats, 1/2 a cup of brown sugar, a dash of cinnamon and ground ginger, and cut in a stick of butter. We dumped the fruit into an 8 by 8 glass baking dish, poured on the crumble mixture, and stuck it in the oven with the second crostata. I left it in for another 20 minutes or so once we took out the crostata and it turned out perfectly crispy and crumbly. The oven temperature of the crostata wasn’t the same as the crumble’s recipe but no matter. It still worked. I like baked goods that require precision, but it’s fun to make improvised, thrown-together desserts too.

Turns out one of J’s crostatas was for her friend’s birthday. She made a home delivery that night. I hope he enjoyed it--at the very least, it was made with lots of love by J. And I hope J’s co-workers are loving the crumble. I had to steal a piece before she took it home with her. I couldn’t resist...

After cleaning up for the day, I had to ask myself what exactly the different is between a crostata and a galette. Or course that means I googled to find out. Everything I read basically says they’re the same thing, just that one is Italian and one is French. The Italian one is typically made with a pastafrolla dough, while the French one is a pate brisee dough, although I guess these rules are always bended with preference. Pastrafrolla seems to be what the French call Pate Sucre which basically means it has more sugar and eggs so it turns out crisper and less flaky. Free standing molded tarts often use Pate Sucre.

Also, I’m used to seeing fruit crostatas or savory crostatas the most, but I believe the jam crostata, or crostata di marmellata, is very popular in Italy. The crostata di frutta also seems popular, but that doesn’t seem as free form. Since it’s basically a crust with crema pasticcera (creme patisserie, or pastry cream) with fresh fruit on top covered by a glaze, it seems more like a fresh fruit tart, but please correct me if I’m wrong. All of this makes me think that in Italian, a crostata doesn’t necessarily directly refer to a free form tart but to tarts in general, both in and out of a tart pan. Thoughts from any and all Italian friends on this topic is greatly appreciated.

As for the French galette--while it most often refers to the free form rustic tart dish, there seem to be a lot of regional variations as well. Some regions call buckwheat crepes filled with savory toppings galettes, and the famous Galette de Rois, or King’s Cake--eaten on January 6th for the feast of the Epiphany--in the Normandy region it’s a puff pastry dish filled with an almond frangipane filling (as opposed to the bread-y, frosted New Orleans version).

All in all, that just means that one post for the crostata/galette isn’t going to be enough and I need to get a bakin’ to tackle all of this buttery goodness.


J, thanks for a fun day.