Cantal Asparagus Tart with Creme Fraiche

Asparagus harvest chez nous just finished with a flourish of numerous spears, enough for a succulent tart.

Recipe taken from Felicity Cloake's Guardian Article
makes a 22cm round giving four to six servings

For the pastry (or use 250g ready-made shortcrust pastry)

• 120g cold butter, plus extra to grease
• 225g plain flour, plus extra to dust
• 1 medium egg yolk

For the filling

• 300g asparagus, trimmed
• 284ml double cream (I substituted crème fraîche)
• 2 eggs, beaten
• 50g gruyère, or nutty cheddar, finely grated (I substituted Cantal Entre Deux Laitier)

To make the pastry, grate the butter (I first dredged the butter in the flour to prevent sticking, cut it into small cubes, then using my fingers worked it into small bits) into the flour and rub in roughly with your fingertips to coat (or use a food processor). Stir in the egg yolk and a pinch of salt and, if necessary, a drop of cold water (I needed to use several tablespoons of water) to bring it together into a dough. Form into a thick disc, wrap and chill for 20 minutes. 

Preheat the oven to 180C (350F/gas mark 4) and grease a 22cm round tart tin. Roll the dough out on a lightly floured surface and use to line the tin, pressing it into the sides with a small ball of excess dough (this was fun!). Prick the base with a fork, line with baking paper and baking beans or pulses/rice and bake for 15 minutes until lightly golden. Remove the beans and paper and put back into the oven for five minutes. 

Meanwhile, steam the asparagus for about four minutes, until al dente. Chop into short lengths, and put about half of the stalks into a food processor (keep all the tops). Puree. Pour the double cream into a jug and add the eggs. Beat together, then stir in the puree and the grated cheese. Season well.
Arrange the remaining asparagus pieces on the bottom of the tart, and then pour in the cream mixture. Bake for about 35-40 minutes until jiggly but set, and golden on top, and allow to cool slightly before serving.

This is the first time I made pastry crust with an egg yolk. How lovely it is! With the leftover pastry, I baked several three-inch rounds which resembled the flakiest flat bread ever.

Blind baking a tart crust may seem not worth the bother, but it does keep the crust nicely crisp, whether it is served cold or warm, even when it had been frozen and defrosted. Therefore this tart can be made in advance. The crust may shrink a bit regardless when pre-baking, so if there is excess of filling, pour it into a baking dish and bake along with the tart.

I used a mixture of white and brown rice to weigh down the parchment paper placed over the pastry. A silicone tart 'tin' was chosen so it could be easily removed for a snazzy presentation.

I am going to miss seeing these little green soldiers pertly poking up in their patch. Since their planting several years ago, this was the first continuous harvest that lasted the recommended full six weeks. Till next spring! Asparagus may take awhile to achieve abundant picking, but once they do, they will keep going for a couple of decades.

Par-boiled asparagus pieces were scattered over the pre-baked crust and the filling poured on.

Because of yellow eggs and green asparagus, its fashion colour sense showed up as delectable chartreuse.

It relied on the Maillard Reaction not only to intensify the flavour but also to round out the colour with a classy brown edginess.

The crust was not only fantastic in taste and texture, but also was sturdy enough to stand on it own.

Delicious aspects abound and one of the most is its consistency which is more like a dense savoury pudding than custard which I suspect is due to blending some of the asparagus.

À la prochaine!

RELATED LINKS

How to make crème fraîche at home

RELATED POSTS

French cheeses: Cantal Apple Clafoutis
How to plant asparagus

No post for Week April 30, 2018

Souped-up Garden will return next week. See you then.

Tulip Season Draws to a Close

Tulip bulbs planted in the front garden last autumn were done in a frenzy because chilly winds had begun a routine of frosting the morning soil. They now are entering another stage, not of potential, but of senescence. Some late bloomers like lovely Viridiflora Chinatown, decked out in cream, pink, and green flounces postpone the moment when there will be no tulips playing in the breeze.

I agree with Dorothea Lange that The camera is an instrument that teaches people how to see without a camera. After taking numerous photographs the last six years for this blog, I more readily spot intriguing textures, as in the Viridiflora petals resembling embossed and striated satin.

Blue Parrot is closer to a blend of mauve and lavender, but still a stunner.

. . . and quite statuesque, towering over Apricot Parrots.

Sky High Scarlet cottage tulips glow in their corner of the lavender hedge.

In the back garden, ruffled Bearded Irises and elegant calla lilies provide a pleasing combination.

That's one of two green pea beds in the centre of the photo

Hairlike structures on the falls (3 lower drooping petals) constitute the beard which guides pollinators to the flower's reproductive parts.

A calla lily bud just beginning to unfurl freshens the evening mist like a slice of lime does water.

The setting sun splashes gold on bushes and lawn which is a beloved sight when my gardening day ends.

The pile of 'hay' is comprised of dried grass clippings and will be put on the pea beds for mulching.

Note asparagus spears in the lower right corner!

À la prochaine!

The Tulips Keep Coming . . .

The plethora of tulips planted in the front garden last autumn are about three-quarters into their season. Pieter de Leur, a lily-flowered variety, present their glossy, huge, crimson blooms in front of still-in-bud, late-season, Sky High Scarlet cottage tulips.

Surrounding lavender bushes are putting out new green growth

This single Pieter de Leur looks as if it's floating in green ether.

Nearby, Apricot Parrot tulips dazzle with their flamboyant form and colour.

Some Pieter de Leur and Apricot Parrot along with pink Miss Elegance and Daydream (starts out yellow then blends into apricot) wind up in a flower brick.

Viridiflora tulip, China Town may be demure, but also unforgettable, with its shell pink streaked with vibrant green.

The entrance path separates the plum tree, abelia, and tulips from some purple bearded irises.

Varigated Lamium galeobdolon loves the shade, self propagates readily, and its foliage and yellow flowers look wonderful against grey rocks.

Dirac the Cat opened an eye to let me know that he is safely tucked within the candytuft away from rambunctious Eli the kitten. I warned him not to let down his guard so soon . . .

. . . as he has left a telltail.

In the back garden, the potager is being prepared for some more sowing. Potatoes and peas are in, and soon carrots, kale, and beets will take their turn. Tomato seedlings are sitting pretty in their mini-greenhouse. Rhubarb has had its first harvest and the asparagus bed is sprouting about a kilogram of spears weekly.

That's the wild area of mostly brambles in background for hedgehogs, lizards,  birds, and insects

À la prochaine!

Tulips, Irises & Sweet Violets

The many tulips planted last November continue to dazzle. Species and Darwin hybrids are just about finished blooming. The lily-flowered variety are at their peak, especially the gorgeous Purple Dream.

The petals are sheltering what could be an extraterrestial forest

Van Eijk tulips graciously wait for the changing of the bloom guard . . .

. . .  and are not disappointed by their replacement.

Often found in early spring gardens, is the intriguing contrast between still bare branches, in this case, a beauty bush, and lush flowers. Van Eijk has fragrant, large, and long-lasting, hot-pink, splashed-with-coral blooms with cherry-red insides.

Daydream, a fragrant Darwin hybrid (its perfume is similar to freesias) starts out yellow and then becomes flushed apricot. Colour-wise, it complements Purple Dream nicely.

Candytuft (Iberis sempervirens) is a wonderful, evergreen ground cover that is commonly grown around spring bulbs as to hide the muddy earth and eventual dying foliage (which feeds next season's blooms). A few shell-pink, double lily-flowered Miss Elegance of the many which were planted for last spring's display managed to rebloom. Unlike daffodils, most tulips don't return.

Bearded irises when they open fully and splashed with rain lend a bit of the exotic to the garden. In the lower left corner of the below photo, you can see the tufted, yellow and white 'beard'.

On the entrance steps, some potted white heather and echeveria with its crimson-edged foliage, cheered us up during the winter. The latter is upping that cheer presently with its yellow flowers.

Sweet violets spread wherever they find shade and a bit of earth. These are doing their thing along the length of our driveway.

Though there are problems having a refrigerator depot as a neighbour, there are benefits as its spacious entrance driveway is beautifully landscaped with a pair of enormous spruce trees and an ornamental cherry tree which presently resembles a soft, pink cloud. That amazing billowing that it does sometimes eludes my camera, as it lasts usually just a day, but this season, it got captured nicely.

This is the view from our living/dining room!

À la prochaine!

No Post For Week Of April 2, 2018

See you next week!

Early-Spring Garden 2018

Tulips dressed in silky tutus are twirling about in late-March winds. The first dancers taking the stage are Van Eijk whose tremendous pink blooms flushed with yellow spread their citrusy fragrance touched with a hint of vanilla and the freshest, richest cream throughout any room in which I place them. When a bloom starts unfurling, the outer petals are splotched lime-green. At first, I wondered if in my eagerness for cut flowers, I picked them too early.

Within an hour, the green mellowed into yellow.

Its stupendous perfume emanates mostly from its core, so I get close to their innards and breath in deeply. Ah! Spring is officially inside our home. The interior of the bloom is closer to scarlet than pink.

Last autumn, I planted several varieties of bulbs to include early, mid, and late season numbering to around two-hundred. There are/will be Darwin hybrids, Late-Single (cottage tulips), Lily-Flowering, Parrot, Viridiflora, and Species.  To honour the abundance, I splashed out for a rectangular holder for up to thirty-two tulips. It's a reproduction of one of The Rijksmuseum's Delft Blue artefacts.

Unlike daffodils, most tulips do not bloom from year to year so they often are regarded as annuals. One exception is Apeldoorn, a Darwin hybrid. Its second season of blooming is much appreciated.

The purple plum tree's branches are laden with delicate blossoms.

When the rain ceases for a while, I garden. Moist soil allows for easy 'lawn' edging.

Such soil is good also for transplanting. These two Junipers (Sky Rocket) were about 15 cm (6 inches) when they arrived in the autumn of 2016. They were put in a nursery bed and are now around 90 cm (3 feet).  Buying shrubs when small through the mail may mean a better choice and lower price than from the local plant nursery. This narrow variety is moderately fast-growing, has a blue-green foliage, and grows tall enough to resemble a green steeple. It is also fairly combustible so my first choice of placing them near the front of the house got changed to putting them relatively far away from it.

The asparagus patch is coming to life.

The late-afternoon sky decided to say hello to the tulips via a rainbow!

À la prochaine!