Chinese custard
tarts are one of my favorite things ever.
I love the creamy,
delectably spotted ones from Macau that sit proudly in their puffy nests, and I love the shiny,
eggy, golden ones from Hong Kong with their mirror-like tops and piecrust pastry.
These two kinds of custard tart are, therefore, totally different, and pretty
soon I’ll crack that Macanese custard tart code for you.
Right now, though, we
are going to dive into Hong Kong’s mini masterpieces. They are a whole lot
easier than they look, but you will have to pay attention. This is pastry,
after all.
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| Pastry cutter & wooden bowl |
Dear reader, this is the first half
of a recipe I have been searching for and never, ever finding. I made so many bad batches that my poor husband wondered how many eggs we'd plow through before I was finally happy. Well, I'm officially happy.
What happened was, that one
day I’d finally had enough. I couldn't stand in long lines at my favorite Chinatown
bakeries forever whenever I wanted a danta fix.
I had too much writing (read: eating) to do.
Furthermore, I decided that I wouldn’t wear a swimsuit this year if it meant
that I could find that perfect mesh of flaky piecrust and delicate
filling.
Some sacrifices
are worth making.
I tried all sorts of piecrusts in
my odyssey… cookie-like, puff pastry, lots and lots of regular piecrusts… but
none really hit that sweet spot.
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| Tossing the flour, fat, and liquids |
I knew it would in the end have to be nothing less than good old homemade piecrust,
but I sort of dreaded that. I even resorted to frozen piecrust in a vain
attempt to end-run the inevitable, but those store-bought things never worked
out well or tasted right.
The thing is, I had always been
rather afraid of the whole making-your-own-piecrust ordeal because the crust
inevitably turned out leaden, no matter how hard I tried.
Then a while ago I bought a copy
of The Gift of Southern Cooking by
Edna Lewis and Scott Peacock, and it rocked my little world.
I used that beautiful book to
understand the art behind making the perfect piecrust, although the ingredients below more or
less follow the guide enshrined in Michel Roux's Pastry. However, as always, I’ve added more details (and made
a few small tweaks) to the final recipe so that you can become as fearless as
me when it comes to piecrust.
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| Clumped up and ready to smear |
What I finally figured out was that
I was not supposed to make pie dough. The name is what slipped me up,
because I was always doing my best to make a doughy mass that I’d faithfully
chill and try to roll out and always end up wanting to throw at the wall and that had the consistency of cardboard and was an utter waste of time.
The secret here is to not think of
this as dough. And to not make it in a food processor.
Rather, what you are going to do is simply incorporate some good, chilled fats and an egg
into unbleached all purpose flour, add just a sprinkling of ice water to
encourage things to come together a bit, and then smear this mixture out into
thin skids on the counter, which is what turns everything into flaky layers.
Again: Do this by hand, not in a
food processor. You need nothing more than a pastry cutter and, in my case, a
wooden bowl to keep things happily corralled. This way you can ensure that the
bits of fat are cut into the right size, rather than mashed into oblivion.
Larger pieces of cold fat will melt in the heat of the oven into airy layers
between the flour before frying the flour into heavenly crispiness. The eggs
are important, too, because they make the crusts a tad more solid and stable.
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| First smear |
I've talked to a couple of bakers who do little else but make custard tarts for
a living. Granted, most people didn't want to discuss their secrets, but a few
kinds folks let slip the fact that the crusts they use come premade. That's
where those little tiny Chinatown tart tins come in to play. I'm guessing that
someone puts out millions of those ready-made crusts, freezes them, and then sells them to
bakeries, restaurants, and dim sum parlors, because they generally taste the
same no matter where you get them. In other words, these piecrusts do the job,
but tend to be pretty generic.
You can therefore up your danta game considerably by making something homemade and ever-so-much-more delicious.
I've suggested that you use
all-metal muffin tins here instead of those usual little aluminum tart tins
favored by Chinatown bakeries. This will give you a bit of a deep-dish tart
with more ratio of custard to crust, which in and of itself is a glorious thing. The heat
the tins concentrate on the bottoms and sides will also give you crispier, crunchier
crusts.
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| After two smears |
You will need around 2 cups (about 500 ml) dried beans or an equivalent volume
of pie weights for the occasion because the crust will swell up during the
initial baking (aka blind baking), and so the beans or weights these will hold
the fort down nicely. If you don't weigh down the raw crust, or if you don't
blind bake the shells, you run the risk of having the bottom crust balloon and
push all your custard out of the pan, which would be sad. As for me, I have an ancient mayo jar with shriveled
garbanzos in it that follows me wherever I move, and it has pride of place on
my pantry shelf.
Do note that while it is
conceivable that you can use silicone muffin pans here, since they make removal
of the tarts from the tin a whole lot easier; the down side is that the crust
won't crisp up very well. Whatever tin you use, be sure and spray it with oil,
as this helps prevent the crust from welding to the pan.
Try this recipe and see if you
become a convert. Next week we’ll do the filling. But first I want you to
master piecrust and never fear making a pie again.
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| Beans & parchment paper |
If you are a purist and are wondering why you should be making these tarts with
a Western-style crust, remember that Hong Kong-style custard tarts were most
probably introduced to Guangzhou (aka Canton) by the Brits, and good old
custard filling is definitely an Anglo-American delight, so I'm just carrying
on this grand tradition of cultural and culinary cross-pollination...
Flaky piecrust
Sūpí 酥皮
Southern China by way of the
Southern U.S. and France and other good eating-places
2½ cups (375 g) all-purpose
flour (see Tip)
1½ teaspoons sugar
1 teaspoon sea salt
1½ sticks (¾ cup / 170 g)
unsalted butter, chilled
1 large egg plus 1 large egg white,
lightly beaten
1½ tablespoons ice water
Spray oil
1 large egg white beaten with 1
teaspoon water
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| Layers of fat = airiness |
1. The crust: Start this recipe at
least a couple of hours before you need it. Mix the flour, salt, and sugar
in a wide work bowl. (I like to use my ancient wooden salad bowl for this.) Cut
the fats into the flour using your pastry cutter until you have pieces no
larger than ½ inch (1 cm) across), but don’t cut it too fine.
2. Use one hand to gently toss the
flour as you sprinkle in the eggs to combine it, and then toss in the ice
water, a teaspoon at a time. Curl your fingertips up as you do this so that you
are gently mixing things up, rather than mashing them. (The second biggest
cause of piecrust failure is overworking the dough or using the palm of your
hand, which is way too hot for this work.) To test it, press a handful in your fist,
and it should clump together. Only add a few tiny more dribbles of water if
necessary. (The biggest cause of failure here is adding too much water. Don’t
worry if there are some dry areas, as the next step will take care of that.)
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| Roll out between plastic |
3. Dump the mixture out onto a
clean, smooth work surface and have a pastry scraper ready. Pick up a small
handful about the size of an egg and then use the heel of your hand to smear it
away from you. This is where you start to form layers in the piecrust. Repeat
this with the rest of the mixture. Then, use your pastry scraper to form this
into a rough mass before repeating this step. You will find that everything
will be pretty willing to stick together when you are finished. Form the
piecrust into a raggedy disc and place it in a resealable bag; you'll have
a little over 1½ pounds (720 g) of dough at this point. Refrigerate the piecrust
for at least 2 hours so that the flour can absorb the water and expand, and the
gluten has a chance to relax.
4. Spray your muffin tin with oil.
Lightly dust your work area with some flour, place the dough in the center, and
dust it with a bit more flour. Cut it into 12 even pieces and then roll them into balls. Working on one ball at a time, place a ball
between two sheets of plastic wrap and use a Chinese rolling pin roll it out
into a disc about 5 inches (13 cm) wide. Set the circle into a muffin tin
cup and gently pat it to fit. Repeat with the rest of the balls.
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| Pat into the muffin tins |
5. Next, dip the end of your
rolling pin in flour and gently tap the dough into each tin, pressing against
the bottom edges, and then rolling the pin around any uneven parts on the
sides. Freeze the muffin pans for at least 20 minutes, as this will help the
crusts keep their shape.
6. Heat your oven to 425°F (200°C)
and set an oven rack in the center. (Do not use the convection or fan setting
for this recipe.) First you will blind bake the crusts, which will set their
shape and ensure that they have enough time to crisp up during the final
baking: lightly prick the bottom of each tart with a fork to help keep the
bottoms from rising too much. Refrigerate the piecrusts until you are ready to
bake them.
7. Completely cover each shell with
a 5-inch (13 cm) square of parchment paper or foil so that they do not brown
during this step. Also, be sure and fit the covering into the bottom corners of
the tarts since this will keep their shape. Fill the shells with your pie
weights or beans, again paying special attention to the corners. Pour boiling water into any empty depressions. Bake the
shells for about 5 minutes, and then rotate the pan from front to back and bake
2 minutes more. The shells will be set at this point, but not yet browned.
8. Remove the beans and coverings
from the shells. Prick (also called "dock") any bubbles that you see,
and then coat the insides of the shells with the egg white mixture. Since the
custard filling is very wet, this last step will create a nice, waterproof seal
in the tarts and prevent the crusts from sogging up.
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| Dock the shells |
9. Return the shells to the oven
until they just begin to color, about 3 minutes. You do not want to brown them
at this point, so keep a careful eye on them and rotate the pan as needed.
Remove the pan from the oven. (If you are going to bake the custard tarts
immediately, reduce the oven to 275°F / 135°C and wait until it cools down to
this temperature, since the custard requires a gentler heat than the crust in
order to set up properly. If the oven is too hot, the custard will boil, which
means that instead of that seductively satiny texture, it will be coarse and have bubbles
running through it.)
Now you’re done and ready to fill
the shells. You can freeze them at this point and then store them in a plastic
container in the freezer so that they don’t break. You don’t have to defrost
them before baking.
Tip
Use unbleached all-purpose flour
here, as it has a higher protein content, which gives the raw crust more
elasticity.
