Tart

There is nothing more delicious than custard cream and fresh berries, as far as I’m concerned. I could eat it with a spoon, morning, noon, and night. This light, fresh tart is easy to make and a favorite with all ages. My kids adore the shortbread crust, because it tastes like cookies and it’s heaped with antioxidant-rich berries, making it rather virtuous (well, sort of . . .).

This lovely tart is great made during peach season, when peaches are at their peak. It can also be made with frozen peaches, but most store-bought brands are underripe and bland. If using frozen peaches, be sure to macerate them a little longer in the syrup/brandy mixture to soften them up. Test for readiness after the first 30 minutes, and continue to macerate as long as necessary, but not so long that they become mushy.

This is the most amazing upside-down cake you’ll ever make. And if you don’t already know how, you’ll learn to make caramel—which used to scare me to death. I always worried about burning it. But making caramel does not have to be an intimidating process—you just have to pay attention. You also want to remember that this is a flipper situation; you need to make the bottom of your tart look pretty because it’s going to end up as the top.

Lemon curd is very elegant. For some reason people think it’s difficult to make, but it’s not—it’s simple, quick, and has a lemony freshness and creamy texture that just screams, “Eat me!” In this tart, I pair the bright lemon curd with a nutty, crunchy crust—they’re perfect partners. What a combo!

Because this pastry is good at maintaining its shape and withstanding humidity, it’s the dough I turn to for blind-baking. It’s ideal for tarts with custard or light pastry cream fillings—or even Chocolate Crème Chiboust (see page 263). Sometimes I roll this pastry out flat, bake it until crisp, and then process it to use as a crumble under ice cream.

This adaptation of Pâte Brisée (page 180) uses milk rather than water to make a richer pastry.

This is an all-round great tart dough. It’s my adaptation of a dough I learned from Thomas Haas when he was the executive pastry chef at Daniel. The pastry’s not too sweet, so it’s versatile. You can use it for everything from berry tarts to quiche. Put the flour in the refrigerator for about 30 minutes before you start making this pastry. Chilled flour will make the flakiest dough.

Chocolate and lemon make an age-old combination; the tartness of lemon enhances the acidity of the cacao bean and cuts the fatty mouth feel. Meyer lemons have a short window of availability, and they’re coveted for their lemony-orangey flavor—which is particularly good when paired with chocolate. They’re versatile, with as many uses in the savory kitchen as in the pastry kitchen.

This is a riff on Jean-Georges’s grandmother’s rhubarb tart. It’s not her recipe for the pastry or the streusel, but the notion of macerating the rhubarb before baking and adding the flan came from her. Mustard may not be a traditional ingredient for desserts, but it adds a definite edge to the jam and it’s my nod to Alsace, from where Jean-Georges hails. You’ll have leftover jam. Try pairing it with cheese or with a sizzling steak.

A crostata is a free-form tart that can be served as a dessert or, like these two, filled with savory ingredients as an elegant starter.

This tart combines the pleasures of a rich chocolate custard with the crunchy appeal of a chocolate chip cookie. As with most pies and tarts, you have two steps: the crust and the filling. Collect the ingredients for both the crust dough and the filling, but make the dough first. As it chills, prepare the filling.

These creamy tarts will solve the problem of what to serve for dessert when you have company for dinner. Vary the yogurt and fruit combination to suit your family’s preferences.

The texture of the chocolate-amaretto custard is very delicate, so be sure to slice the pears very thin, so you can eat the dessert with a spoon.

When you think about adding flavor to foods in the most healthful way possible, you think about the most intense flavor vehicles you can find. That’s why this recipe calls for vanilla bean. The tiny seeds inside pack a wallop of this most delicate and beloved taste. If you can’t find good strawberries, try whole raspberries or small slices of ripe peach.

“I’m not much of a cook,” Michèle Weil told me as she ushered me into her charming kitchen in a residential section of Strasbourg. Fresh basil was growing on her kitchen windowsill, and paintings from the Jewish School of Paris adorned the walls. “But,” she continued, “I have to cook. All French women cook.” A full-time pediatrician and the mother of three boys, Michèle is smart enough to know she can’t do it all. On medical call before we arrived for dinner, she quickly pulled from the freezer a package of hunks of frozen salmon and cod, bought at Picard Surgelés. Then she boiled some potatoes, put the fish in the oven, and opened a carton of prepared Hollandaise sauce, which she microwaved and poured over the baked fish. Putting this together with a green salad with tomatoes and her homemade vinaigrette, she had made a quick and balanced dinner. Like all working women, Michèle has to make compromises. “My mother would never have given you frozen food,” she apologized. “But, no matter how busy I am, I would never buy desserts. I always make them,” she told me as she presented a free-form rhubarb tart that she had made before going to work. It seemed that every Jewish cook I visited in Alsace served me rhubarb, the sour-tasting sign of spring. Unlike Americans, who almost always marry tart rhubarb with strawberries and lace the two with large quantities of sugar, French cooks make a less sweet tart using only rhubarb. They peel the stalks first, which I do not. I think it might be one of those French fetishes, like always serving radishes with butter, or tomato juice with celery salt. Alsatian home cooks also serve their tart with a delicious custard topping made from cream and eggs.

When I was a student in Paris, I became hooked on intensely tart yet sweet French lemon tarts, and sampled them at every pastry shop I could find. I still love them, especially when they are bitingly tart.

My first taste of a French applesauce tart was in a convent in Jerusalem many years ago. When I was visiting Biarritz recently in late autumn, I was delighted to taste it again, at the home of Nicole Rousso. She learned how to make the tart from her grandmother, who came from the Vosges Mountains. Nicole has a penchant for bio and healthy products, and uses fresh grapes as a sweetener in the applesauce. I love her elegant French touch of thinly slicing an apple and arranging it on top of the applesauce before baking.

Lemon and blueberry are a perfect pair, like Bert and Ernie. You will need a 10 1/2-inch tart pan with a removable bottom. Serve this year round.

This triple threat dessert offers three distinct textures and flavors: A nutty, crumbly crust is filled with a dark chocolate pudding enriched with bittersweet chocolate, cocoa, and chocolate stout, then topped with a billowy bourbon whipped cream. For more seasonal recipes, download the free Gourmet Live app and stay tuned to the Gourmet Live blog for the latest updates.