I’m going to say right here the words that a lot of you don’t want to hear: This recipe is a guideline. You don’t have to follow it exactly. Yes, that’s right. You can do whatever you want with it — hooray for choices! It’s summer, and tomatoes have been showing up everywhere. I buy so many during the summer that I don’t always get very creative with them and just eat them sliced with a little salt and olive oil, or make a Corn, tomato, avocado, and basil salad, or mix them with fresh shelling beans, or make panzanella. Our garden only yields cherry tomatoes, and this year has been a bit of a flop due to all the rain (and lack of sun), but I am happy to find nice tomatoes in the shops around Paris that offer produce from small producers.
Tarts, or galettes as they’re sometimes called, are a great way to put those tomatoes to use and let them shine. I know some people are scared to make dough, which sometimes involves fussy pie weights, and some recipes call for pre-baking the dough. Thankfully, this recipe isn’t one of them. This dough couldn’t be simpler, and it’s very hard to screw up.
You don’t even need to measure the mustard down to the 1/4 teaspoon or gram, nor do you need to weigh the tomatoes. People have been cooking and baking long (long) before there were scales and measuring cups, so even if you don’t have a scale, you can eyeball everything in the topping. Older French cookbooks call for things like “a wineglass” of water when making tart dough or “a coffee spoon of leavening.” (Edna Lewis talked about learning how to bake by putting “enough baking powder that will fit on a dime” when measuring ingredients for making a cake.) They didn’t have social media back in those days, where people could point out any flaws, but in France, in general, people are happy to have anything homemade and ignore cracks and darkened bits in favor of flavor. Regarding mustard, to be honest, I’m more of a fan of Dijon mustard than Romain, who prefers the grainy way. But during the mustard shortage last year, we could only get grainy mustard, so I have a lot of that on hand.
Edward Behr wrote about how mustard seeds don’t release their flavor until they’re broken, which may explain why I go for the ground, smoother mustards. But as I said, as adults, we can make our own choices in our kitchens.
I just love fresh ricotta. If you’ve only had the stuff that comes in plastic tubs in the supermarket, that’s no comparison to the real thing. While you can make your own version of ricotta-like cheese, real ricotta is made from the whey drained off when milk is curdled to make cheese. (If you can get your hands on 2 1/2 quarts/2.5L of whey, you can make it at home.) Ricotta means “recooked,” and I had the real deal in Sicily, visiting a family of farmers who make it every day after they milk their sheep, which they also need to do daily. When I asked my Sicilian friend what they do when they go on vacation, she looked at me and said, “David, they don’t even know the word ‘vacation’…”
Fresh ricotta is really good with honey and a few grains of salt on it for breakfast, or with fresh berries macerated in a little sugar with a few drops of kirsch or a berry-flavored liqueur for dessert. But it’s also nice baked, as long as it’s not sliced too thinly. You want it to remain creamy-smooth inside and a little caramelized on top when baked with the tomatoes.
I’ve already made this tart about a half dozen times this summer, making it once with corn, showering it with fresh tarragon from our garden (which, unlike the tomatoes, is thriving) after baking. Other times, I’ve served it with a smear of pesto, and I’ve even spooned some Calabrian chili paste on it. Some of my American friends with French partners tell me that I’m fortunate to have a French partner who likes spicy food as many don’t like food qui pique, although folks who don’t like strong Dijon mustard can buy mustard that’s mi-forte, partially strong. But I suggest going full-on here.
Summer Tomato TartServes 8 (Although everyone always wants a second slice so realistically, it serves 4) Polenta will make the dough a little less smooth to roll out, but I do like the taste and texture of the coarse bits of ground corn, so it’s worth it for the flavor. You can use fine polenta or cornmeal or additional all-purpose flour (or a whole-grain flour, such as teff or buckwheat) in place of the polenta if you want to leave it out. I love fresh ricotta with this tart, but you could try it with another cheese that’s relatively moist but won’t melt into a puddle, such as feta or provolone. I’ve added corn kernels to this tart before baking when I had a hankering for corn. (Fresh or frozen will work.) You can finish the tart with a flurry of fresh herbs, such as basil, tarragon, savory, or parsley. I also like it with swipes of pesto or Calabrian chili paste on it, added after it’s come out of the oven. For the dough 1 1/4 (175g) cups all-purpose flour 1/4 cup (35g) polenta or cornmeal 2 teaspoons sugar 1/2 teaspoon salt 3 ounces (85g) unsalted butter, chilled and cubed 5 tablespoons (70ml) ice water, plus more if necessary For the tart 1/4 cup (60g) Dijon or whole-grain mustard 3 medium tomatoes (~1 1/2 pounds) Salt and freshly ground pepper 6 ounces (170g) whole-milk ricotta 1 1/2 tablespoons melted butter Parmesan cheese To make the dough, mix together the flour, polenta, sugar, and salt in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, or make it by hand by putting the dry ingredients in a medium bowl (and use a pastry blender or your fingers to mix the dough). Add the cubed, cold butter and mix until the pieces of butter are the size of large corn kernels. Add the water and continue to mix until the dough starts to come together. Use your hands to gather the dough and shape it into a disk. If the dough feels too dry to do that, add more water, 1/2 tablespoon at a time, until it comes together. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap or your favorite eco-friendly alternative and chill for at least an hour. (The dough can be made up to 3 days in advance.) To make the tart, remove the dough from the refrigerator. Unwrap it and, holding the disk of dough perpendicular to the counter, rap the sides of the dough on the counter, turning it as you go, to soften the edges, which helps them stay together and not get too ragged when you’re rolling out the dough. On a lightly floured countertop, roll the dough out to a 14-inch (36cm) circle, turning the dough and sprinkling more flour on the counter and the dough to keep it from sticking as you’re rolling. Place the dough on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper or a silicone baking mat. Preheat the oven to 400ºF (200ºC) while you assemble the tart. Spread a layer of mustard on the dough, leaving a few inches/centimeters empty around the perimeter, which you’ll fold over the filling later. Slice the tomatoes about 1/3-inch (1cm) thick and layer them in concentric circles, overlapping them a little, over the mustard. Sprinkle the tomatoes with a little salt and freshly ground pepper. Fold the edges of the dough over the tomatoes to make an outer crust. Place chunks of ricotta cheese over and, in some places, partially tucked under the tomatoes. Brush the edges of the dough with melted butter and grate Parmesan cheese over the entire tart, including the crust. Bake until the tomatoes are soft and cooked through and the crust is dark golden brown, about 35-40 minutes. Slide the tart off the pan onto a wire rack and let cool for about ten minutes before serving.
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Thursday, July 11, 2024
Fresh Tomato Tart
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