A beautiful tart to make at anytime W
While the weather’s trying its hardest – today’s a crisp, clear and frosty 4K high-definition barnstormer – it’s often a struggle to get moving into the New Year.
The post-celebration blues can hit hard, with overflowing bins full of wrapping paper, unwanted or broken gifts, and forlorn-looking abandoned Christmas trees lurking on our region’s pavements.
Our homes, now bereft of their twinkly lights and colourful cards, seem a little muted. And personally speaking, the impetus to cook things is barely there.
The other night, as T and I were trying to decide what to have for supper, I said “I just want a menu.”
At that point, I couldn’t be bothered even thinking about what to cook, let alone setting to with a knife and an onion. But we managed. And very slowly, every year, the feeling comes back.
Normality resumes in its own good time. My timing’s been right off, too, as it is at this time every year. I struggle to get back into my weekly routines, and forget what day it is with alarming frequency.
And, as with the last two years, I have forgotten to mark the 6th of January with the making of a traditional European dish, the famous Galette Des Rois.
Well, not this year. I’m making one whether I’ve missed the date or not. Seeing hundreds of them scroll up on my Twitter feed just reminded me that I simply had to make one, and bad timing be damned. The King’s Cake (or Bolo Rei in Portugal, Roscón in Spain and South America, Vasilopita in Greece), is a special cake made to celebrate the Epiphany, the date that marks the end of the festive season.
It is the date when, in biblical history, the three kings visited the infant Jesus and witnessed the miracle of the virgin birth.
All across Europe, and in many states of the southern USA, cakes of various types are made in honour of this date, and are baked and eaten all the way up until Shrove Tuesday (which technically gets me off the hook, time-wise, here). Across Europe, the cakes are almost always variants of the same recipe – a sweet puff pastry tart (very similar to a pithivier) filled with almonds, often with elaborate and decorative scoring and a deepgolden bake.
The filling, a rich frangipane, is sometimes spiked with a little rum or brandy, and most bakers will hide within the cake a little figurine representing the infant in his manger (most often a dried bean is used) to be found by a lucky member of the family upon whom good luck and gifts are bestowed.
It’s the same, I guess, as our sixpence in the Christmas Pud. I didn’t bother with this for my Galette, but you’re welcome to add a small trinket (oven-proof) but do remember to tell everyone, before Grandma sues you for ruining her dentures.
I added a little extra touch of my own here, by adding some deeplytoasted flaked almonds to the top of the frangipane, ensuring a nice crunch along with all that rich, almond-y smoothness.
It’s a doddle to make, impressive to look at, and the perfect accompaniment to that cup of strong coffee you sip whilst planning your 2018.