Southern-style puff pastry

Today is all about a wonderful secret: Chinese puff pastry. Why it's a secret I do not know. But few people make it anymore, even bakeries, depending instead upon the convenience of commercially made puff pastry. 

And it's true, you definitely can use frozen puff pastry for many Chinese recipes. It’s all right in a pinch.

But you won’t have something spectacular on your plate as a result. And you want spectacular, right? Right.

People generally think of Vienna or Paris when puff pastry is mentioned, but I’m here to tell you that the two Chinese varieties are every bit their equal. 

Southern-style puff pastry is richer than what is made in the North (think of the shaobing 燒餅 that taste almost oil-free). The southern version is intended for light pastries like Macanese custard tarts or as flaky wrappers for heftier items, like brined yolk pastries (dànhuáng sū 蛋黃酥).

Macanese custard tarts

I will probably show you how to do those brined yolk pastries before long, since a Nanjing friend with a major sweet tooth has been bugging me to make them. I mean, like every time he sees me, it's "I have a great idea for you." 

I was thinking of using date paste instead of red bean in them so that there is a touch of tartness against the sweet and salty. Anyway, if you are interested in this idea, too, please let me know.

Now, you *can* use frozen puff pastry as a substitute for many Chinese puff pastry recipes, and that is what way too many restaurants, dim sum parlors, and bakeries are doing. I understand: it's cheap, it's easy, and most people won't complain. But if you ever get a chance to try old school puff pastry, you will be one of the complainers.

Front: high fat, back: low fat (Steps 1 & 2)

For example, in next week's custard tart recipe, if you go to the minor extra trouble of putting together some homemade pastry, you will taste the difference. These crusts won't be buttery or sweet, but rather layer upon layer of delicately flavored shards that focus all the attention on the filling. They reheat well and turn crisp with the least bit of encouragement. They hold up admirably as cups without being in the least hefty... in fact, I've tried rolling them out as thin as possible, and they still did the job without popping a sweat.

But the real wow factor comes, though, when you bite into a really well-made custard tart and feel the contrasts against your lips, teeth, and tongue. There really is nothing like it, so I find it hard to explain. It's like trying to describe a color. Just try this and you'll see. 

The key to making a successful batch of puff pastry is to roll out this dough without additional flour so that it stays light and flaky. Instead of flour, lightly oil everything (the surface, the rolling pin, your hands), rather than adding the usual dusting of flour, to help the dough resist drying out and cracking. Again, this is harder to explain than to do, and once you've done it, all the fear will dissipate. I have photos to accompany every step, so feel very encouraged to make this. 

Layered pinwheel (from next week's recipe)

I gave my good friend Chiaying a couple of these tarts yesterday. Chiaying is one of the hardest people I know of to please when it comes to food. She is persnickety with a capital P because she is a great cook and because she was raised on incredibly good homemade food. But she took a bite of these tarts and practically swooned. She'd never had such a perfect custard tart, she said, and to me that was the most amazing praise I've ever gotten from her.  

In All Under Heaven, I designed this recipe for individual pastries. But when it comes to Macanese custard tarts, I’ve found that coiling up the dough and then slicing it, so that you roll the dough out into pinwheels (see the photo to the upper right), gives the pieshells a chance to release hot air and not puff up too much. This way, the custard doesn’t spill all over. (I’m really, really, really proud of this discovery. Please cue the Nobel Prize and MacArthur Foundation folks.)

Here are a few more tips for making these pastries fast and hassle-free:

High-fat dough on the low-fat (Step 4)

·      Keep the high-fat dough and any high-fat fillings chilled, especially in hot weather, so that they roll out easier and the short dough won’t squish out of the sides.

·      Cover the dough at all times when you aren’t working with it, as it dries out quickly, especially in dry climates. Breakage leads to squishing.

·      Whole-wheat flour does not work here as well as unbleached refined flour. Although whole-wheat pastries are tasty, the dough dries out quickly and tears easily, so whole wheat is not recommended for either the high- or low-fat dough.

Special southern-style puff pastry for Macanese custard tarts

The first rolled-up carpet (Step 5)

Púshì dàntá de tèzhì yóusūpí  葡式蛋塔的特製油酥皮

Makes a little over 1 pound (500 g) dough

Low-fat dough:

Either 1 cup plus 3 tablespoons (140 g) Chinese flour, or 12 tablespoons (115 g) all purpose plus 5 tablespoons (35 g) pastry flour

1 tablespoon sugar

2½ tablespoons (25 g) white shortening or lard  

¼ cup cool water

High-fat dough:

5 tablespoons (50 g) white shortening or lard  

1½ cups (150 g) unbleached pastry flour  

Neutral vegetable oil (like canola), as needed

Coiled into a snail (Step 6)

1. A food processor makes life considerably easier here, so if you have one, use it for both kinds of dough. If not, use an electric mixer or make it by hand. First make the low-fat dough by mixing together the dry ingredients, then work in the shortening or lard, and lastly add the water to form a soft dough. Work it lightly in the machine or on a board, cover it tightly with plastic wrap, and let it rest for at least 20 minutes.

2. To make the high-fat dough, mix the fat into the flour until it is fully incorporated and you have a soft sand that easily comes together when you press it. Cover it tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 20 minutes.

3. Have a pastry scraper and your oil ready. If the dough starts to feel too sticky or soft at any time during these final steps, chill it for about 20 minutes before proceeding: Roll the low-fat dough out on an oiled, smooth surface into a more or less 12-inch (30 cm) square. 

4. Pat the high-fat dough on top of the low-fat dough, leaving a small border on each side, and then pat the fatty dough out with oiled hands. 

Envelope fold (Step 7)

5. Use your pastry scraper to roll the dough up into a carpet shape. 

6. Then, coil it up like a snail. Keep your hands, rolling pin, and surface oiled throughout this process.

7. Use your fingers and the heels of your hands to flatten the snail into a 10-inch (25 cm) square, and then fold this up like an envelope. (From this point on, as the doughs turn thin, you will see some breakage. Don't worry about it. If the crumbly high-fat filling pops out, scatter it back in. If the low-fat dough tears, just gently push it together. Remember: this is just pastry and nothing to lose sleep over.)

8. Flatten it out once again into a rectangle that is about 12 x 6 inches (30 x 15 cm). 

Final rolled-up carpet (Step 9)

9. Roll this up from the short end into a carpet, wrap in plastic, and chill for at least 20 minutes, or freeze it if you want to bake the pastry later. Just before you cut it, use your fingers and the heels of your hands to gently roll the dough out into a bar about 12 inches (30 cm) long. You now have approximately 7 zillion layers of pastry ready to go.

The rest of this recipe on how to fill and bake these tartlets will be found on next week’s blog post…

Hong Kong custard tarts, part 2

Here now is my lovely Hong Kong-style custard tart recipe. What amazes me is that it is such a simple, seemingly no-brainer sort of recipe, and yet it took me ages to get right.

Just about every recipe I referred to told me to fill the raw pie shells with the custard and bake on high heat. Failure after failure made me realize this is sheer nonsense. These glassy little gems require slow, gentle heat to nudge them into a perfect state of doneness. You don't want bubbles, you don't want browning, and you don't want puffing – just smooth, creamy, super-enticing custard.

However, the crusts have to be cooked at a high temperature in order to garner that right amount of crispness, so what to do? I settled on blind baking them (meaning just the piecrust without the filling) to set their shapes and give the crusts a head start.

Fill the partially baked shells

Since these are baked in muffin tins rather than the usual shallow aluminum ones you find in Chinese bakeries and dim sum teahouses, they are a tad bit heftier in size, but still amazingly light. In other words, you have a nice, deep-dish hand pie going on. And that is yet another reason why I so love this recipe of mine.

I also like the freeform crust edges. These look homemade, and they taste like they were created with love. Definitely not in the least generic or bakery-issue in appearance, they still embody the traditional loveliness of the beloved classic Cantonese teatime snack known as danta. The browned edges possess a wonderful crunch, and as the tart cools, the exterior crisps up and offers even more contrast to the eggy center.

Speaking of which, the eggs I've used here are of great quality, and that is why these don't taste overtly eggy and give off the sulphuric fumes you get from cheap eggs. Instead, they taste fresh and pure. I’ve come to be addicted to pasture-raised eggs, which have a true egg flavor, harder shells, and bright orange yolks. Have I mentioned how delicious they are, too? Let me repeat that anyway. Hunt these down. They are life-changers. 

Whatever you do, be sure and strain the eggs after they have been beaten with the sugar water, as this ensures a smooth texture. 

This recipe calls for a traditional ingredient, evaporated milk. I've made these with whipping cream on occasion, and they are delicious too, but in a different way. The filling somehow isn't as yellow, but the texture is truly lovely. Either way, these are terrific.

 

Ready for the oven

Custard tarts are wonderful the day they are made. Nevertheless, if you do find yourself with leftovers, be sure to refrigerate them, since they are, after all, basically just eggs and milk. 

One thing I have to tell you is that these are utterly stupendous the next day:

Heat the chilled tarts (just place the tarts directly on the oven rack without the muffin tin) in a toaster oven at 400°F (200°C) for around 5 minutes to warm them through and crisp up the crust. If you have a convection setting, use it this time around because it really gives the crust a whole lot of crunch. Because the custard is very cold when it goes on the oven, it will be just the right amount of hot at the end of 5 minutes. 

Don't you want to have a tea party right about now?

Hong Kong-style custard tarts

Găngshì dàntá 港式蛋撻

Hong Kong

Makes 18 custard tarts 

  

10 tablespoons (100 g) sugar
1 cup (235 ml) boiling water

Perfect crust & custard

4 whole large eggs

2 large egg yolks

2 teaspoons vanilla

Pinch of salt

1 cup (235 ml) evaporated milk or heavy cream, or half evaporated and half cream

18 tart shells from last week's piecrust recipe, frozen or fresh

Boiling water, as needed

1. Stir the sugar into the boiling water and then let the sugar water cool down to room temperature.

2. Use a whisk to beat the eggs and yolks in a work bowl until they are barely frothy. Beat in the cooled sugar water, which will help break up the whites and make the mixture smooth. Pour this egg mixture through a sieve into another 4-cup (1 l) measuring cup and discard any solids in the sieve. Stir in the vanilla, salt, and evaporated milk or cream. 

3. Heat your oven to 275°F (135°C) and set 2 racks in the center. (Do not use the convection or fan setting.) Divide the filling among the tart shell. Pour half an inch of boiling water into any unused muffin cups so that the muffin tin does not scorch the tarts close to those areas.

4. Bake the tarts for around 20 minutes, and then rotate the pan from front to back. Note how done they are at that point, for the edges should be set with the centers still looking liquid. Bake another 5 to 10 minutes (note: each oven is different, so check them every minute or so if they seem to be setting up quickly) until the crusts are edged with gold and the filling is no longer wobbly in the center. When done, there will be a very slight puffing up around the edges of the custard, but no big bubbles – that puffing is telling you that the custard is on the verge of boiling, so keep your eyes peeled. Again, you need to watch these carefully toward the end of the cooking time, adjust the temperature as needed, and remove the tarts the moment they look perfect. You don’t want to overcook them – no browning on the eggs, no puffy centers – as this will lead to bubbles in the custard. 

A simple solution to sticking

5. Cool the tarts down before serving, if you can wait, since the piecrust will crisp up by then. 

Tips:

Before you fill the shells, gently twist them in their tins so that any welded-on parts get dislodged.

To remove the tarts from the muffin tin, run a thin blade around the edge between the crust and the tin, and then slip a fork underneath the tart. I like to do this when they are warm and the crust is still a bit flexible. Also, I'm usually super anxious to eat one at that point, so perhaps I'm just looking for excuses.

If you worry that the piecrust will stick to your muffin tins, try this: Place a strip of parchment paper or foil in the oiled tins before you line them with piecrust.

Plum custard tarts

If you happen to have leftover custard, pour them into oiled custard cups (the name had to come from somewhere, right?) and bake them with the tarts. 

Again, remember that your oven will most definitely work differently than mine. A custard tart is one of the most finicky things to bake, and the major causes of failure are the baking time and the temperature. Just a few extra minutes too long in the oven will ruin the whole shebang. And it's not just our ovens that are different, for the temperature of the raw eggs and milk will also affect the timing. So, be sure to keep track of the exact times things get done and make notes for next time.

Always err on the side of undercooking. If you take the tarts out and all or a few still look a little runny in the centers, return these to the oven for a few minutes – no harm will have been done, and you will end up eating perfect custard tarts.


Variation on a theme...
Custard tarts with plums

It's high summer as I write this, so of course I have plums hanging around the kitchen, and they always seem to suggest that I come up with something fun for them to do. And, just to make them happy, I found out by playing around with them that they are absolutely incredible when tucked away in these tarts. 

Spoon cooked fruit into the shells

Plums (or plumcots or black apricots or any of those hybrids) are perfect here because of their tart centers and skins. And they are stunning, too.

Part of the allure is, of course, the flavor. But you have to admit that they also add pizazz just by dint of their color. 

Count on about half a plum per tart. Pit them, but leave their skins on. Cut the fruit into large dice and microwave for around 1 minute, which should barely cook them through and turn them into a nice puddle.

Spoon the cooked, unsweetened fruit into the bottom of each tart shell before pouring on the custard. These tarts might then require a few more minutes of cooking, so keep an eye on them.

As the seasons change, use other slightly (or very) tart fruits here, like strawberries and rhubarb. Anything with good color, great flavor, and a slightly puckery contrast to the custard will be perfect. Just be sure to cook the fruit first and make them jammy, as otherwise it will either not cook through or will release lots of liquid that will ruin your lovely tarts. 

Perfect pie crust, or Hong Kong custard tarts part 1

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.

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. 

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.)

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. 

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. 

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.