Recently, Noah and I traveled to England for a while. It was beautiful, the food was good, and ask me for the story about the woman running the B&B we stayed in in Cromer who was maybe the inspiration for Miss Marple (not that I’m saying Jill is old, just a genius), and god, I even saw lambs gamboling about. All of this was terrific, but whenever people ask me about the trip, me, being me, I can only say one thing: the strawberries there were so goddamn good.

It is unspeakable! Why are they so good?! They are like the tiny strawberries you might grow in your yard, except superior to those. I encountered this when in Italy last summer, but I thought it was because they were from like, the farm up the hill or something. These were from driscolls! I bought them, with a plastic cover on top, from Tesco! We also bought the weird ones, pictured above, from a little produce store, and they looked like alien berries and taste like the exemplar of strawberry. The strawberriest strawberry.
This is to say, we got strawberries in our CSA this week, and while usually I would have been overjoyed, because they would be the first good strawberries I’d had in months, I was nonplussed. They were good, sure, but they weren’t as good as Tesco’s strawberries. So the sat in the fridge for two days, and then it was too late to eat them, we had to do something with them—as quickly as humanly possible.
So I spent all day debating: should I make a strawberry pie? That seemed straightforward enough. But then I went to check what goes with strawberries in The Flavour Thesaurus and she said that strawberries go well with hazelnuts and then I remembered that I was just in England, and while I was there I had the British equivalent of a little debbie, only it was a fairly tasty bakewell tart.

So this tart was born: it’s inspired by the general concept of the British classic, the Bakewell tart, but a little different. The traditional bakewell tart is a sweet shortcrust pastry, with an incredibly thin layer of raspberry jam, covered with a thick and fluffy layer of frangipane (frangipane being traditionally made with almonds). I, however, was in possession of a prodigious amount of strawberries on their last legs, so I made a huge quantity of jam. I made so much jam. I would not recommend making strawberry jam with no setting agent (very ripe strawberries have almost no pectin), but it is what I did. You should probably just… buy jam. Unless you have too many strawberries. Anyway, because I had so much jam, I used a somewhat larger amount, probably around a cup? I didn’t measure it, and a relatively thinner layer of frangipane than is typical. This tart is amazing. I’m a fairly honest evaluater of my own recipes, sometimes they aren’t great. This one is. Make this one. I did everything over the course of two days and no single part of it was particularly hard, and if you don’t make your own jam the whole thing is easy.
Here is how to make what I’m calling my signature bake for pastry week.
Jam:

Typically jam is composed of equal parts fruit and sugar. I ran out of sugar, so mine had a bit less than it should. I also added three peppercorns (they were incredibly fancy, grown in the forest in Vietnam), and two tablespoons of champagne vinegar, although I think typically lemon juice is called for. The ratios that I used were completely nuts, something like 21oz of strawberries, and 18oz sugar. You don’t want to do what I did.
But if you do want to do what I did:
Soak your strawberries in cold water, lifting them out of the water and then adding more cold water, until the water is clear. Behead and quarter your strawberries (hull them if it seems necessary, I guess???) Weigh them. Add as much sugar as you did strawberries to a heavy bottomed non corrosive pot, add your vinegar or lemon juice. If you are adding any flavorings (part of a cinnamon stick would probably be nice, the peppercorns may have added something, the jam was great, maybe this is part of it) do it now. Heat over low heat until the sugar is fully dissolved. You want to scrape around the pot, and feel for sugar granules. Bring to a boil. It can come up quite quickly, keep a close eye on it. Boil for as long as it takes for the bubbles to become thick and somewhat lethargic. If you have a thermometer, temp it, you are looking for 220F, which will mean that the water has cooked off enough. Mary Berry says to test this by smearing a bit of jam onto a frozen plate, sticking it back in the freezer for a few minutes, and then pushing it with your finger to see if it wrinkles. This never quite worked for me, and indeed my jam was kind of loose, but it tasted phenomenal, so whatever.
Idk just buy some jam.
To make the tart dough:

Listen, there’s a lot of tart doughs out there. I am fairly faithful to the recipe from Chez Panisse Desserts, it is straightforward, and eschews a lot of the fussiness that is common in recipes for short crust pastries, so I am just using this recipe. If you have a favorite, use that! I don’t care!
1 cup flour
1 tbs sugar
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp lemon zest
1/2 cup unsalted butter, not too cold
1 tbs water
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
Mix your dry stuff (and zest) together. Cut your butter into chunks. The recipe says (and in my experience it is true) that you can make the dough with butter that is “quite soft, as it might be in the summer” just know that your dough will come together quickly, so do not overwork it. Mix the flour mixture and butter with your hands (or a pastry blender?) until it is mostly cornmeal sized pieces, and is beginning to hold together. Add the water and vanilla, working it just until the pastry is blended and will hold together if you press it (YES it is very crumbly YES it is fine). Gather it into a ball and wrap it in plastic. Refrigerate for at least a half an hour (really really necessary in this recipe, the flour needs this time to hydrate) and up to overnight. Before you intend to smoosh it into the tart pan, let it get a bit warm on the counter for ten minutes or so, this will make everything easier.
Make the frangipane:

Recipes for frangipane vary, but I’m basing mine on Smitten Kitchen’s recipe for hazelnut brioche bostock
100 grams ground hazelnuts (I bought them ground, I detest peeling hazelnuts)
A pinch of sea salt
75 grams (6 tablespoons) granulated sugar
85 grams (6 tablespoons) unsalted butter, cold if using food processor; otherwise at room temp
1 large egg
1 tsp brandy, well, I used whiskey, idk
Mix all dry ingredients in food processor. Add butter until well mixed. (You could also do this by hand with a wooden spoon, or with a mixer). Add the egg and brandy, mix until combined. Refrigerate until somewhat cool (it spreads easier), although imo this isn’t necessary.
Take your tart dough out of the fridge, let it soften a bit, press it into your tart pan with the heel of your palm. (Pictured above). Press it up the sides, getting as even a layer as you can. Use your fingers and squish it around however is necessary. Really try to get it even, and as high up the sides as you can, it will come down a bit while baking, so the extra height is good.
Freeze while preheating your oven to 375. Bake, unfilled, for about 15-20 minutes, until lightly browned.
Remove from the oven, fill the bottom with a layer of jam, then plop on your frangipane. If, like me, you refrigerated it, it will be too cool to spread. This is fine, it will puff up while baking, filling in most of the gaps. Just put it on the top however you like.
Bake at 375 until puffy, and golden brown on top, this took me about 27 minutes. You can test the frangipane for doneness by sticking in a knife, the frangipane should not cling. Cool, serve topped with powdered sugar, if you’re fancy. Or more jam, if you are me, and have so much jam.
Anyway, this is all I have this week. I know it’s been ages, but this recipe really spoke to me. It tastes incredible, the texture is great, even though I underbaked it a hair. I think you will like it, and I would love for you to try it.