Not without my torta

Many of us have eaten them. Either in Spain, or when we have lashed out and bought a packet of Inés Rosales tortas, individually wrapped in their instantly recognisable white and blue paper. There is something about tradition and the sense of handmade that gets me every time. Especially when you know that it is not a cute marketing ploy to suck in consumers.

These olive oil tortas have been around in Seville for generations. They are a curious mix of sweet, savoury and salty. Hard to pigeonhole. More-ish to eat. Traditionally they are a breakfast biscuit to eat with coffee, or used to dip into another Spanish classic, the crema Catalana. The tortas need to be handmade to achieve the best results. The dough is a yeast dough that doesn’t go through any proving time, an unusual procedure in itself. Once divided, the dough is formed into balls and then flattened. The women at the Inés Rosales factory, known as labradoras, sit in neat rows flattening the balls of dough in the palm of their hands with a curious technique. Try as I might, I cannot get the action right to achieve this, so I suggest flattening them on a bench, but using your hands, not a rolling pin. The rolling pin gives a different result that doesn’t seem as nice.

It’s really important to get them as thin as possible. Once they go into the oven, be very alert as they can turn quickly from nearly cooked to burnt if you are not vigilant. And let them cool down as they need to be completely cold to attain their delicious crispness. Here I have paired them not with crema Catalana, but with its French cousin, a pot de crème. I love the combination of the sweet/savoury notes of the torta with the acid and creaminess of the custard.

I am sure you will start to find more uses for this Sevillian treasure – triple cream cheeses, serrano ham,

• the list could go on and on.