Rhubarb and Custard Tart with Butter Crumble

The closest I ever came to running an allotment plot was directly after I read Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, in which she and her family attempted to eat only locally grown food for a year. I signed our family up for a local plot...and was told the waiting list was taking on average 7-8 years. Recently (about 7 years after signing up) we were sent a letter asking us to contact them if we were still interested...I didn't respond.

I mean, I like the idea of gardening and growing my own food. I just don't actually like spending my time doing it. Good weather is so rare here, it seems such a waste to spend it on an allotment when I could spend that time in a park instead and amble down to buy locally grown produce at the farmers' market.

...Or simply cozy up to friends who sweat over their own plots. And friends like these always gift you some of this stuff:

Rhubarb. Glorious, wonderful, heavenly rhubarb. Barbara Kingsolver has a chapter in her book when her family set off on their first week of local eating at the very beginning of spring. Her daughter has one request from the market: fresh fruit. So early in the season, they went with little confidence to their small gathering of farmers' stalls. They had given up hope until they found our cold weather friend: RHUBARB! Admittedly, much like tomatoes are fruit, rhubarb is a vegetable and needs a fair amount of sugar and stewing to make it palatable, but what a flavour it is. And once you have a plant which has established itself, you need do little to maintain it apart from cut it regularly, so it is a lazy gardener's dream, constantly producing a steady stream of stalks, so I am told

One of the mums at my children's school came to the playround the other day armed with four shopping bags of freshly hacked stalks, determined to give all the cuttings away in order to save her family from a plant threatening to take over the back of her house. Three bundles were given away to mums who had previously put in requests, and as she threateningly swung the last sack towards the remaining crowd I did not hesitate to stake my claim to it, quickly snatching the parcel and cradling it carefully for the two mile journey home, pondering what it would become. A crumble was the obvious choice, but I wanted to incorporate a custard element somehow, as well as some orange flavour that others recommended, so I searched and found a recipe for rhubarb & custard pie with butter crumble.

But I'm going to call it a tart, because that sounds fancier and more continental. 

I started by making some pastry from Jamie Oliver recipe. I later realised this was a mistake, as it's a fairly short dough that tears easily, and with a custard pie you really need a leakproof base. Live and learn. But yeah, I put a bit of clementine zest in (oops, no oranges in stock) which was a bit pointless as we couldn't taste them anyway, and blind baked it with my trusty jar of pulses and beans as pie weights. Then in went the rhubarb which I had briefly cooked in a pan with some sugar until the sugar dissolved.

On top of this I poured my custard mixture. The recipe called for single cream, but I didn't have any of that either, so I used the last bit of double cream I had and topped it up with whole milk and a touch of vanilla paste just because vanilla makes everything better.

I baked it until the custard was just starting to set (and the crust just starting to burn).

And then on went the butter crumble mixture which I had whizzed together in the food processor before adding sliced almonds as an afterthought.

Back in it went to let the crumble crisp up and to burn the edges of the pastry.

So yeah...I trimmed off the more, er, caramelised edges.

Then on a plate it went to cool. The recipe said to eat warm, but then I read the comments section (it's ok to read comments sections on recipes) and everyone was all "HELL TO THE NAW SHOULD YOU EAT THIS HOT! IT NEEDS TO COOL TO MAKE THAT CUSTARD SET, YO! "

Well, they didn't say it quite like that, but they all agreed that essentially you need to let it cool, as it keeps cooking as it cools and makes it less of a gloopy mess when you slice into it.

So eventually we did slice into it, and the comments people were right.

It needed that time! Mary Berry wouldn't have liked the soggy bottom, but it was still tasty. 

Now I know what you are thinking: Why not just make rhubarb custard and pour some fresh custard on it? Isn't that pretty much the same thing? Plus a bit of pastry, maybe?

BECAUSE I LIKE THINGS FANCY, OK?

But yeah, I just stewed the rest of the rhubarb and had it on some yogurt, and that was pretty tasty too. Rhubarb is awesome like that. 

Recipe is here, but I also know how to copy and paste, so it's below too:

Rhubarb & custard TART with butter crumble

• 350g rhubarb
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
• 100g golden caster sugar
• 350g sweet shortcrust pastry
• 1 large egg and 1 egg yolk
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 1 tbsp plain flour
• 284ml carton single cream

For the topping

• 50g butter
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  , melted
• 50g demerara sugar
• 50g porridge oats
• ½ tsp ground ginger
• Cut the rhubarb into bite-size pieces, then put them in a frying pan with half the sugar and warm through just until the sugar dissolves. Immediately tip the rhubarb into a bowl with the juices and leave to cool. Preheat the oven to 180C/gas 4/fan 160C.
• Roll out the pastry quite thinly and use to line a deep, loose-based 24cm fluted flan tin. Line with greaseproof paper and baking beans and bake for about 20 minutes until the pastry is pale golden and no longer raw.
• Beat together the egg and egg yolk, vanilla extract, remaining caster sugar and the flour. Gradually whisk in the cream with any juice from the rhubarb (you should have a tablespoonful or two). Now spoon the rhubarb into the prepared pastry case and pour the cream mixture over.
• Turn the oven temperature up to 200C/gas 6/ fan 180C and bake for about 20 minutes, or until the custard is very lightly set and there is a thin skin on the top.
• Mix together all the topping ingredients and spoon evenly over the pie. Return it to the oven for a further 15 minutes or until the crumble is golden and the custard set with just a little wobble. The top of the pie may have risen and cracked when you take it from the oven but don’t worry as it will settle back again on cooling. COOL COMPLETELY THEN SERVE

Fraisier

"So what kind of cake do you want for your birthday?" I asked my son.

"I want the same kind you had!!" he quickly replied.

"A fraisier? Are you sure? You don't want a chocolate cake? Or just a lemon drizzle cake? Or a victoria sponge?"

"No, I want the kind you had!"

He's lucky he's worth it...you'll see why...



First you put some eggs, sugar, and lemon zest in a bowl over a pan of simmering water.

Then you ask your husband to plug in the electric mixer because the outlet still isn't screwed in properly even though the boiler was changed (and the panel behind the outlet dismantled) 6 months ago.

And after a few minutes it is light and fluffy like this, the "ribbon" stage where if you can see a ribbon of batter stay on the top for a bit if you dribble some across.

In went some of the self raising flour to be folded in.

Then in went the rest.

And what makes everything better?  BUTTER OF COURSE!!! Melted, so no need to worry about "room temperature" consistency, thank goodness.

Then it went into a lined springform pan. I didn't trim it enough, hence the jagged edge.

While that went in the oven, I started on the creme pastisserie by heating some milk and vanilla paste (I rarely can be bothered with using actual vanilla beans).

In a separate bowl went eggs, egg yolks, corn flour, and sugar.

Once the milk was hot it was poured into the bowl and whisked.

Then returned to the pan.

Once it had thickened, in went butter.

Lots of whisking was necessary here.

Then into a freezer bag it went, to be put in the fridge to be ready for piping later.

Then I moved onto the syrup that keeps the sponge MOIST. Lemon juice and sugar.

It was heated until boiling and until all the sugar was dissolved.

By this time I had to go and get the kids from school, so Michael printed off some stensils and piped melted chocolate onto greaseproof paper for me to transfer later.

Now for assembly. I rolled out some marzipan using icing sugar to prevent it from sticking

And then traced a circle onto paper, then cut out the paper and put it on top like so.

Look, I can make a circle! Sort of.

Not having acetate to hand, some clingfilm went around the side of the now empty springform pan.

The sponge was sliced in half with a big bread knife.

And half the syrup was put on the bottom half after I'd wedged it into the tin. Robert helped.

Sliced strawberries went around the sides.

And the filling was squirted between them.

Then I squirted big creme pat turds all through the middle.

On went quartered strawberries. I sometimes put raspberries in instead, but have strawberries around the sides as it's prettier that way.

More creme pat turds.

Then I squashed on the other syrup soaked layer of sponge.

Then the marzipan...

Then the writing and garnish.

We had wanted to have it on the night of his birthday, but Catherine had fallen asleep by the time Christopher got home from cricket, so we decided to have it for, er, breakfast instead.

I mean, it had fruit and nuts in it, didn't it? And lots of eggs too...10 I think in total.

Waitrose's finest candles.

My son made his birthday wish

And smiled on his parents' great efforts.

He was delighted to get all the candles on the first attempt.

And even happier to get cake for breakfast.

And I was happy not to have to do any more baking for a bit.

The GBBO technical challenge recipe is here, or in copy & paste form below. All 34 friggin steps of it:

Ingredients

• 125g/4½oz caster sugar
• 4 free-range eggs
• 2 lemons, zest only, finely grated
• 125g/4½oz self-raising flour, plus extra for flouring
• 50g/1¾oz unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly, plus extra for greasing

For the crème pâtissière

• 600ml/20fl oz milk
• vanilla pod
• 4 free-range eggs, plus 2 free-range egg yolks
• 180g/6¼oz caster sugar
• 1 tbsp kirsch
• 100g/3½oz cornflour
• 150g/5½oz butter, cut into cubes and kept at room temperature

For the lemon syrup

• 75g/2¾oz caster sugar
• 2 lemons, juice only

To finish the cake

• 200g/7oz marzipan
• 200g/7oz dark chocolate, for decoration
• 600g/1lb 5oz medium sized strawberries

Preparation method

1. Preheat the oven to 180C/350F/Gas 4.
2. Grease, flour and line the base of a 23cm/9in spring-form or round loose bottom cake tin.
3. Place the sugar, eggs and lemon zest in a large bowl set over a pan of simmering water.
4. Using an electric hand whisk, whisk the mixture over a medium heat until doubled in volume and pale in colour. The mixture is at the right stage when it forms a ribbon trail when the whisk is lifted out of the mixture. Remove from the heat.
5. Sift in two-thirds of the flour and gently fold into the whisked mixture with a metal spoon or spatula. Add the remaining flour and fold again. Try to keep in as much of the air as possible. Make sure all the flour is incorporated into the mixture.
6. Gently fold in the melted butter.
7. Pour the mixture into the cake tin and bake for 25-30 minutes or until the sides of the cake begin to come away from the tin and it is pale golden-brown.
8. When cooked, allow the sponge to cool a little bit in the tin, then turn out onto a cooling rack. Be careful as this sponge is quite delicate. It should be just under 5cm/2in in height.
9. To make the crème pâtissière, pour the milk into a wide based pan, split the vanilla pod along its length using a sharp knife, and add it to the milk along with the vanilla seeds. Bring the milk up to the boil, then take it off the heat.
10. Whisk together the eggs, sugar, kirsch and cornflour in a medium sized bowl until blended.
11. Remove the vanilla pod from the milk and pour the hot milk through a sieve into the egg mixture. Whisk to combine.
12. Pour the custard back into a clean saucepan and set over a medium heat.
13. Stir the custard constantly until the mixture thickens. The mixture will take about four minutes to thicken, but when it does it happens very quickly, so you need to really keep stirring to prevent lumps. Whisk until smooth.
14. Cook the mixture until the crème is very thick, so that it can be piped and it will hold its shape. Stir in the butter until thoroughly melted and combined.
15. Allow to cool slightly, pour into a shallow dish and chill in the fridge for about an hour until really cold and set firm. This chills it faster as it cools over a larger surface area – alternatively you could fill the piping bags with it at this stage and leave overnight to chill.
16. Place the ingredients for the lemon syrup in a small saucepan with 70ml/4½ tbsp water. Heat gently until the sugar dissolves, then boil rapidly for two minutes. Remove from the heat and set aside to cool.
17. Meanwhile, roll out a thin disc of marzipan to fit a 23cm/9in circumference circle. It is best if you draw around the 23cm/9in base of another loose bottomed tin for the perfect circle. For best results and a perfectly flat surface, chill it in the fridge until it is needed.
18. Slice the sponge in half horizontally, creating two slim discs of cake. The cut must be as level as possible as it will be visible in the finished cake.
19. Place a strip of acetate plastic around the inside of the springform tin. Or line the base and sides with cling film or parchment lined foil.
20. Place one layer of sponge cake in the bottom of the cake tin. Then liberally brush the sponge with half the syrup. With the back of a spoon, gently squash the edges of the cake down so that they are pushed directly against the sides of the tin, creating the defined edges necessary for the Fraisier cake.
21. Rinse, hull and halve about 12 strawberries, try and make sure they are all the same height.
22. Place the cut sides of the strawberries against the plastic on the inside of the tin. The strawberry halves should be sitting snugly beside each other, so it looks like a little crown inside the tin.
23. Take the chilled crème pâtissière out of the fridge and spoon two thirds of the crème into a piping bag, fitted with a 1cm/½in nozzle.
24. Pipe a swirl covering the exposed sponge completely in the bottom of the tin.
25. Then pipe between each of the strawberries so the gaps are filled right to the top with the crème pâtissière.
26. Set about 3-5 strawberries to one side for decoration, then hull and quarter the rest of them and place on top of the crème, so it raises the inside of the cake by about an inch.
27. Pipe another swirl of crème pâtissière on top of the cut strawberries to cover the whole surface. Then smooth with a palette knife.
28. Place the other disc of sponge on top of this, with the cut side uppermost, so it has a completely flat top. Brush with the remaining syrup.
29. Gently press the top down quite firmly, so that the cake and filling push against the acetate to create the distinctive smooth and defined sides of the Fraisier cake.
30. Lay the chilled marzipan circle on top of the cake and put the whole thing back in the fridge to set.
31. Make some pretty decorations of your choice with melted dark chocolate.
    Technique: How to pipe chocolate decorations
    Watch technique1:06 mins
32. When ready to serve, remove the cake from fridge.
33. Very carefully release the spring tin/loose bottom and remove the cake from the tin and from the acetate or cling film.
34. Place onto a serving plate and decorate with reserved strawberries, chocolate decoration and a dusting of icing sugar. Serve chilled.