Maltby Street Traders - Food (photos) Find

This 'Food Find' is a bit of a tease as it is to alert you not to a specific food, producer or trader, but to a unique record by Bermondsey-based photogrpaher Tif Hunter.  My only excuse for labelling this a Food Find is that Tif's project captures a food community in the form of the Maltby Street Traders.  A regular at the Maltby Street arches on Saturdays, Tif has paused individual traders in the midst of their busy days at this wonderful food hub in Bermondsey.  These are far from ordinary portraits.  The strong, arresting, even beautiful, images are achieved using a 19th century camera allied with polaroid film, which produces both a positive and a negative image and a high level of focus.  The photos appear on the website Spitalfields Life.  It's an on-going project so if you like what you see, check back later in the year for more.  Spitalfields Life is updated daily by 'The Gentle Author', with 'goings-on' on the streets of the Spitalfields area of East London.  It's a great read and, truly, all human life is here.

February is the leanest month - so cook Sausage Ragu

Sausage Ragu
with gnocchi

There is no doubt that February is the leanest month in the culinary calendar, but by definition that makes it the most hopeful month (sometimes it pays to be a glass half-full type of person).  It will be another 6 weeks before I start planting in my allotment but my plan of action is ready and the seeds are ordered.  It will be late spring before I start harvesting my own crops so, as I eke out the remains of last year's garlic harvest, this is the time I rely heavily on my favourite shops and markets.  It's the one time of year when I'm happy to embrace some seasonal fruits from warmer climes.  I draw the line at imported blueberries, cherries and apricots - it's just so wrong in winter, and so tasteless - but sweet jewel-like pomegranite seeds and zingy bitter Seville orange are very welcome in my kitchen right now.

The sky may be grey but just think of all the uplifting foods which are just round the corner.  Blood oranges and forced rhubarb are already in the shops, and before we know it Alphonse mangoes will be appearing.  Artichokes, leeks, parsnips and, this year, some frankly disappointing winter cabbages (too mild?) will soon be eased out by broad beans, peas, and green garlic.  Wild garlic leaves and Jersey Royal potatoes will soon follow.  The fish and shellfish on offer is changing from oysters and sea bass to crabs, sardines, mackerel and scallops whilst venison and pork is joined by hoggett and, soon, tender spring lamb.  The best part is that, other than the oranges and mangoes, all of these will be British grown or raised.   Given the strange winter we have had this year, we may see some of these sooner than we expect.

We are on the cusp of of swapping the filling, warming foods of winter for the lighter, uplifting dishes of spring.  But we're not quite there yet, so here's an easy economical winter dish of pork sausages filled out with pillowy gnocchi, fragranced with fennel seeds and warmed by the heat of dried chilli.  It's inspired by a dish I've eaten more than once prepared by Dave Cook at Gergovie Wines/40 Maltby Street in Bermondsey and a version appears in Bocca the Cookbook. 

You can prepare the gnocchi a few hours ahead of time if you wish, then you don't want to have too much going on at once.  If you're short of time, I'm sure a short pasta such as penne would work well.  This is the perfect dish to keep the February blues at bay.

Sausage ragù with gnocchi
(serves 4)

FOR THE RAGÚ:
4 best quality pork sausages
1 tablespoon of olive oil
2 cloves of garlic, sliced
1-2 small dried, deseeded, chillies (depending on strength)
Half a tablespoon chopped rosemary leaves
Half a tablespoon of fennel seeds, crushed
800g tin of plum tomatoes

Fry the sausages to brown lightly, then slice into rounds and keep warm.  Fry the garlic, chllies, fennel seed and rosemary for 1 minute then add the tomatoes and bring to the boil.  Add the sliced sausages and simmer very gently, uncovered, for at least 45 minutes until the sauce is quite thick and dark.

FOR THE GNOCCHI:
300g (12oz) of cooked floury potato, eg King Edward (about 400g raw)
50g (2oz) plain flour
1 small egg, lightly beaten
A little nutmeg to taste
Salt and pepper

Steam the potatoes in their skins (this keeps the mash dry).  Bring a pan of water to the boil and salt it.  When the potatoes are cool enough to handle, skin them and put through a ricer or mouli or mash well.  While still warm, mix in the flour, egg, nutmeg and seasoning lightly.  Take a small piece and drop it into the boiling water.  It should float to the suface without breaking up.  If it separates, add a little extra flour to your mix.  Take pieces and roll by hand into lengths, roughly the thickness of your middle finger (use a little extra flour if you need it only to stop it sticking to the work surface but handle gently).  Cut into 1cm lengths. Drop into the boiling water and once they float to the surface, cook for 2 minutes. 

Drain the gnocchi and add to the finished ragù (if you are preparing them ahead of time, spread them in a single layer on an oiled plate and chill and warm them through in the sauce for a couple of minutes when you're ready).  Serve with grated parmesan or pecorino. 

Fernandez & Wells at Somerset House

View from window seat in
Fernandez & Wells
at Somerset House

There's always something interesting going on in the gallery spaces of Somerset House.  A major  venue for contemporary art and design exhibitions and home to the wonderful Courtauld Institute for Art, it's located between the Thames and the Strand.  Finally, Somerset House has a café to fit this handsome location in the centre of London. 

Towards the end of last year Fernandez & Wells opened a simple food and wine bar in a corner location of the East Wing of this 18h century neo-classical building.  Looking out onto the central courtyard from what used to be offices for the Inland Revenue, it's a glorious spot. The wonder is that the civil servants managed to keep it to themselves for so long. 

Hidden well into January by the annual ice-rink, until now Fernandez & Wells was easy to miss.  Inside, high ceilings provide an elegant gallery-like three-room space for a stylish café which lives up to expectations.  Each of the rooms is hung with artworks by British artist David Tremlett.  This location is very different from the hole-in-the-wall spaces of the three Soho branches Fernandez & Wells have opened over the past four years.  In Soho your pulse quickens, and that's a good thing but sometimes you want a different kind of stimulation, a little peace and quiet, and some beauty.  Somerset House provides all of these, and the simple food at Fernandez & Wells doesn't disappoint.

Fernandez & Wells Interior
at Somerset House

Partners Jorge Fernandez, ex-Monmouth Coffee, and Rick Wells, formerly a BBC World Service reporter, created Fernandez & Wells in 2007.  The ethos is to offer a select range of foods from some of the best small producers and suppliers around in the kind of place you can pop into at any time of day.  Offering Spanish jamon from Juan Pedro Domecq and Tuscan cured meats from the wonderful Ham & Cheese Company, well-kept cheeses, beers from London's Kernel Brewery, excellent Pasteis de Nata and other good quality cakes.  Brunch dishes, a seasonal dish of the day, freshly made sandwiches, a focused range of wines and sherries, decent single estate coffees and teas makes it a good spot for any time of day.

The café is open every day from breakfast through to dinner.
Bag yourself a table and note the number before ordering your food at the counter and it will be brought over to you.  The staff are eager to please but the atmosphere is relaxed and relaxing.  It's not cheap but it is value for money and a great place to unwind - a world away from the traffic of the Strand.  In summer the courtyard is cooled by fountains and hosts an outdoor cinema season.  Oh, and did I mention the view? 

Fernandez & Wells
East Wing
Somerset House
Strand
WC2 0RN

http://www.fernandezandwells.com/
http://www.somersethouse.org.uk/
http://www.courtauld.ac.uk/index.html

Moro - The Cookbook

Towards the end of 2011, when writing of my pick of cookbooks published over the previous year, I decided I would indulge myself with more reviews of the wonderful older books sitting on my bookshelves. Here is the first of them.  If you're interested in Spanish and Moorish cuisine, this is the best book I have come across.

Moro - The Cookbook
Sam & Sam Clark

How many times have you bought a cookbook and been disappointed to find a number of the recipes just don't work? It's happened to me too many times so these days I'm much more circumspect about the books I buy. With Moro - The Cookbook, I feel I'm in safe hands.  Despite the fact a lot of the dishes are unfamiliar, I have never had a failure cooking from this book.  Husband and wife team, Sam & Sam Clark, opened their restaurant Moro (from the Spanish for Moor) in 1997 after cooking together at Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers' River Cafe. This book is based on the cooking at Moro. Influenced by the River Cafe's emphasis on good ingredients simply cooked and their travels in Spain and the Muslim Mediterranean, they marry the robust style of Spanish food with the exotic lightness of the Muslim cooking they encountered.  As they put it, the book aims to "conjure up images of hairy-chested matadors and of hedonistic sultans".  There is romance and passion in this book - well, they were a newly married couple when they explored the regions - and their deep love affair with the food and the people shines out.  From the super-simple Spanish dish Sopa de guisantes and Saffron Rice, eaten at Muslim weddings, to the slightly more time-consuming Breast of Duck with pomegranate molasses or Yoghurt Cake with pistachios this is a fascinating meeting of cuisines. The Clarks' passion is expressed in prose which excites but is backed-up with well-researched recipes that work.

http://www.moro.co.uk/moro/restaurant/default.asp

Moro - the Cookbook is published by Ebury Press

Calcots with romesco sauce

Calcots

Romesco sauce is a classic from Spain's Catalan region.  Made by pounding nuts, chillies, peppers, garlic and tomatoes, romesco is a versatile sauce which goes well with fish, chicken, lamb or vegetables such as asparagus or leeks.  Best of all is to serve it with calcots.  Somewhere between a spring onion and a leek, these alliums were orginally what harvesters missed in the autumn. The onions remained in the ground over winter and in January/February sprouted from the old bulb.  These days they are a delicacy and are planted to over-winter.  Their harvesting is often celebrated with a 'calcotada' festival.  There seems to be no definitive recipe for romesco sauce.  Some lean towards a high ratio of peppers, some to tomatoes.  The romesco recipe here is based on the one which appears in 'Moro the cookbook'.  It can be prepared ahead and keeps for at least a couple of days in the fridge.  You can perk it up by stirring in, or sprinkling on top, some feshly fried breadcrumbs before serving.

Having discovered the first Spanish calcots of the season gracing Tony Booth's arch in Bermondsey at the weekend, I just had to bring some home.  With thoughts of past enjoyment of calcots cooked over charcoal and served with romesco sauce on visits to Barcelona, I then had to decide how I was going to recreate my memories off this early spring traditional Catalan dish.  They need a high heat to obtain the desired charred quality so unless you have a barbecue, an open fire, or a robust cooking range you need to decide how you're going to achieve this in a domestic kitchen.  

I have an induction hob - not the gas range I would like.  I could have simply grilled them, but I opted to trim the roots of the calcots, strip off the outer "stocking", wash and pop them into boiling, salted water for just a couple of minutes before drying them on kitchen paper then charring them.  To achieve the charring, just heat a large frying pan on a fairly high heat and pour in a trace of olive oil.  Heat a second pan alongside.  Add the calcots to the first pan and cook them for 3-4 minutes on a medium-high heat until browned then turn each over, put the second hot pan on top and cook for a further 2-3 minutes.  Remove them to a few sheets of newspaper and wrap loosely.  Leave for 2 minutes then the calcots should emerge sweet, silky and slightly smokey.  

Calcots with
Romesco Sauce

Romesco Sauce
(For 4-6 people)

50g (2 oz) blanched almonds
25g (1 oz)  hazelnuts
1 dried ñoras or choriceros pepper
1 small dried red chilli, deseeded and crumbled
2 garlic cloves
25g (1 oz) stale white bread, torn into pieces
1 red Romano pepper, roasted, peeled and seeded or 75g piquillo peppers (the kind you see in jars in Spanish food shops)
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 scant tablespoon sherry vinegar (or red wine vinegar)
½ teaspoon tomato purée
A pinch of saffron, infused in 4 tablespoons of boiling water
½ teaspoon sweet smoked paprika
Salt and pepper

Break open the dried pepper, remove the seeds, crumble the pepper and pour enough boiling water over to cover.  Add the crumbled dried chilli to the bowl too.  Dry roast the nuts in a frying pan until golden brown then allow to cool.  Fry the whole garlic cloves in the olive oil until golden, then remove and keep aside.  In the same oil, fry the bread until golden and crisp.  Use a food processor or a pestle and mortar to pound the first seven ingredients to a coarse paste and keep the pepper water to one side (I like my sauce to be quite crunchy rather than smooth).  Transfer the paste to a mixing bowl and stir in the final five ingredients and any olive oil leftover from frying.  Add some of the pepper water to let down the sauce to the consistency you like.  You can also add more olive oil at this stage if you wish.

To eat the calcots, roll up the flesh and dip into the romesco sauce. Three or four per person makes a good lunch.  And if you can't get calmest, small-medium sized leeks are a good option.

The Calҫots have arrived - Food Find

Not only does it feel like Spring is just round the corner but the Spanish Calҫots are here to confirm it.  Spotted at Tony Booth's Bermondsey arch today (supplier to Barrafina, Jose/Pizarro and Tapas Brindisa) the first of the season are just beginning to be harvested in the Catalan fields.  Somewhere between a spring onion and a leek, these alliums were orginally what harvesters missed in the autumn.  The onions remained n the ground over winter and in January/February sprouted from the old bulb.  These days they are a delicacy and are planted to over-winter.  They are traditionally roasted over an open fire and served with the gentle heat of a sunny romesco sauce of chillies, peppers, nuts, garlic, tomato and sherry vinegar.  You could grill them or, a good improvision I saw today, place the Calҫots in a hot dry frying and place a smaller, smoking hot one on top.  Cook on a high heat until charred then wrap the Calҫots in newspaper and they will soften as they cool a little.  Strip away the outer "stocking", roll up the flesh and dip into the sauce.  If you don't want to cook them, and can't get to Barcelona, look out for them in good Spanish restaurants.   

Seville Orange Cake - gluten free

Seville Orange Cake

I have two friends who are coeliacs, and boy are they fed up with chocolate cake.  Evidence that I'm not the only one who, when faced with having to produce a cake for a wheat intolerant friend, has come up with the ubiquitous flourless chocolate cake.  Coeliac disease is more than an intolerance, being an auto-immune condition triggered by the gluten found in wheat, rye and barley.  In some case, oats are also off the menu.  So, there goes bread, pasta, pizza, cakes and biscuits, at least as most of us know them, so I'm always on the look out for suitable seasonal recipes to ring the changes. 

This cake makes use of those lovely Seville oranges I mentioned a couple of weeks ago which will only be around for another 3-4 weeks.  The recipe I gave you then for Seville Orange Tart is out of bounds to my coeliac friends but this Seville Orange Cake is perfect.  It has few ingredients and, on the face of it, sounds almost too worthy.  Having tried it out on cake lovers with no dietary problems, however, I assure you it more than holds its own in the cake league.  Light, yet moist, it is the perfect plain cake to eat with tea or coffee.

This recipe is inspired by Sam & Sam Clark's recipe in 'Moro the Cookbook'.  The quantities in the recipe below can be reduced by half and the cake baked in a 18cm round tin if you want a smaller cake.  You can use sweet oranges instead of bitter Seville but add the juice of 1 lemon to sharpen up the juice if you do.  I sometimes mix some chopped almonds into the ground almonds to give the cake a bit more texture.  I don't add a cinnamon stick when making the syrup, as the Sams do, as I find it overpowering.   A little candied peel served with the cake is a nice touch but it's good on its own. You can make your own candied peel from the Seville oranges.

Seville Orange Cake
(for a 23cm cake tin.  Halve the quantities for a 18cm tin)

6 eggs, separated
240g caster sugar
230g ground almonds (or 180g ground and 50g chopped)
Finely grated zest of 2 Seville oranges (or 2 sweet oranges and 1 lemon)

FOR THE SYRUP:
Juice of 4 Seville oranges (or 4 sweet oranges and 1 lemon)
2 tablespoons caster sugar

Pre-heat the oven to 180C (160C Fan oven).  Line with greasproof paper a 23cm loose bottomed or springform cake tin on the bottom and sides.  Mix all but 30g of the caster sugar with the egg yolks until pale.  Mix in the almonds and zest.  Beat the egg whites with the 30g of caster sugar until stiff.  Mix a third of the stiff egg whites into the almond mixture to loosen it up then carefully fold the remaining egg white in trying not to knock out the air.  Gently pour the mixture into the prepared cake tin.  Bake in the middle of the oven for about 60 minutes (30 minutes if you've made the smaller cake) until the cake is firm and golden.

While the cake is baking, bring the juice and sugar gently to a boil then simmer for 10 minutes.  It should taste quite tart.  Leave the syrup to cool.

Once the cake is cooked, remove from the oven and allow it to cool for 10 minutes on a cake rack in its tin.  Make a few holes in the cake with a skewer and pour over the syrup.  Once it's completely cool, turn out the cake. 

The cake will keep well for 2-3 days.

The allotment in winter - love your leeks

Leeks Gribiche

The day has dawned cold and windy but dazzlingly sunny and, in the allotment, somewhat sodden underfoot.  The plots are deserted, save for the singing of blackbirds already sensing spring, and the odd jet black crow stabbing at the ground.  Fortunately at this time of year the last thing the land needs is for someone to come along and dig.  Its structure needs no intervention when the weather is wet or cold.  I’m happy to leave the soil to rest and rejuvenate, disturbed only by the wildlife that reclaim the land over the winter months.  I clear away the inevitable bird wing, no doubt left by the cat who likes to utilise my patch as a lure to its prey. 

There isn't much left in the ground to appeal to anyone or anything right now.  A patch of leeks, which have grown well in the mild weather stand sentinel.  Some over-wintering onions and garlic, which really shouldn’t be so far advanced at this time of year, could fool you into thinking spring really had arrived.  They may pay for their forwardness if winter does eventually put in an appearance.  A cluster of desiccated calendula flowers offer their seeds to passing foragers.  Amazingly, a few flowers cling on, adding an unexpected flash of colour.  Raspberry canes flex in the fierce winds and bide their time.  Save for the skeletal soft fruit bushes, the rest is bare earth populated with the odd tenacious clump of self-seeded grass.  Ah yes, the weeds.  Thousands of enemies lying snug in their earth blanket waiting for the last of the frosts. They'll compete with the seeds I’ll start sowing sometime in March, but they'll also be a guide as to when to get started.  When it’s warm enough for the weeds, it’s time to plant.

Today I’m here to prune back those gooseberry and currant bushes to ensure a healthy crop come the summer.  I cut out dead and crossing branches until I achieve the optimum vase shape which will allow good air-flow and make picking easier.  The gooseberry bush likes to protect its fruit with the sharpest of barbs.  Despite all my efforts, a fruiting season without scratched and torn forearms is one I’ve never achieved.  'My' robin has arrived.  Perched on a spade handle only four feet away he fixes me with a hopeful "worms please" eye.  I turn a little of the, relatively warm, compost heap and unearth a few lethargic wrigglers for his benefit. 

Every year is different in the garden.  The only constant is what grows well one year will let you down the next, and something that didn’t deliver may well grow abundantly next season.  I have no space to start off seeds under glass and no inclination to mollycoddle seedlings so everything goes straight into the ground.  It’s thrive or die on my plot and as I grow biodynamically, I'm even more dependent on nature than most.   

Apart from the autumn-fruiting raspberry canes, which I’ll cut down to the ground in February to stimulate new growth, my plot is now ready and waiting for planting to start in March.   A quick tidy up, a few of the smaller leeks pulled for lunch, and it’s time to leave the allotment to ‘my’ robin (and probably that pesky moggy) for a few weeks.   So, what to plant this year?  That’s a whole other pleasure to ponder. 

In the meantime, here’s a classic recipe for those leeks.  Smaller leeks are best for this dish.  The herb I use is chervil as I like the extra dimension of mild aniseed it brings to the sauce but it's more correct to use chopped chives or parsley, I think.

Tip: If you dislike raw shallot, dice it and put it in boiling water for 30 seconds to take away the astringency before starting this recipe.

Leeks with sauce Gribiche
(Serves 4 as a starter or light lunch)

12-16 small leeks, topped and tailed (but retain some green)
1 small shallot, chopped into very small dice
1 tablespoon of wine vinegar or lemon juice
Salt & pepper
5 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil
A few cornichons (I like more cornichon than shallot), chopped into small dice
2 hardboiled eggs
A few sprigs of chervil

Clean the leeks scrupulously.  Drop them into boiling salted water for about 4 minutes, depending on size.  Once cooked, plunge the leeks into iced water to stop the cooking and retain their colour.  Dry throughly on kitchen paper.

Put the diced shallot into a bowl and add the vinegar or lemon juice, salt and pepper and leave to marinate for 5 minutes.  Whisk in the olive oil to form an emulsion.  Add the diced cornichon and crumble in the egg yolks.  Mix well.  Dice the cooked egg whites and fold in with the chervil.

Serve the leeks with the sauce and decorate with a litte chervil.

Christchurch Fish - London needs you!

Catch of the day from
Christchurch Fish

We've all got the message by now that seafood is good for you, but finding quality fresh fish in London isn't easy for the home cook.  Some of the best is to be found on London Farmers' Markets. It was fantastic to see Les of Christchurch Fish, who trades at Blackheath and South Kensington markets appear on the Bermondsey Trail, centred around Maltby Street, one Saturday in December.  I was wowed by the freshness of the catch, though as the weather conditions in December had been less than ideal for fishing, the produce was limited.  Fishing conditions at the moment are excellent for this Dorset co-operative of small inshore fishing boats.  Last Saturday's catch included lobster, crab, seabass, gurnard, place, pollock, pouting, flounder and turbot, along with cockles, mussels and clams.  The "beautiful" herrings I was hoping for were sold out by the time I got there, but the brill I spotted was sensationally good.

Using ecologically friendly fishing methods, the catch is preserved in soft-ice immediately and the boats return to their home port of Mudeford each night.  Selling direct means there's no hanging about in the distribution chain. A lot of the fish on offer elsewhere can be up to five days old by the time it gets to our tables.  No wonder we don't eat enough fish.

The methods used by Christchurch Fish seem to me to be real sustainable fishing - small boats, fishing a local area, bringing in whatever is caught.  Though I did ask for more information when Les mentioned they carry out some dredging for scallops early in the year, prior to beginning hand-diving in May.  There is no question that dredging by 'otter', 'beam' and 'pair' trawling, carried out by boats over 10 metres long, is bad for the environment.  The issue of dredging is contantly under discussion and I wondered what this small-boat co-operative is doing gathering scallops in this way.  The answer was "there's dredging and dredging, much depends on the weight of the dredge, the type of ground worked and the intensity of the dredging.  We have one boat that crabs year round and dredges a very small area bounded by his crab pots for two days a week, weather permitting, for about ten weeks a year when the crabbing is poor. That skipper has worked the same ground for 15 years and scallop stocks there have remained healthy throughout that period."   Although I'd like to understand this subject more, it seems obvious that the fisherman would be crazy to damage his own patch.  

Having sampled a range of fish and shellfish, it was no surprise to me to hear this month that Christchurch Fish were voted 2011 "Favourite Stall" by market shoppers at South Kensington.  Voters singled them out for their "knowledge, customer feedback, excellent product and reasonable prices".  The care taken to catch, handle and transport the fish and shellfish is consistently apparent.  Les is more than happy to talk fish and knows his subject inside out.  It feels like shopping on the quayside, and it's in the middle of London.

To find out what Les will be bringing to market each week, you can go to Christchurch Fish's website and subscribe to his weekly email.  You can also give him your order to avoid finding the herring you'd set your heart on is going to end up on someone else's plate.

London markets currently attended:

Maltby Street, Bermondsey SE1   Saturdays
South Kensington Farmers' Market   Saturdays
Blackheath Farmers' Market    Sundays

Seville Orange Tart to celebrate the citrus

Seville Orange Tart

The season for Seville oranges is fleeting so we need to make the most of them.  Harvesting begins in December and the fruits are over by February so it's easy to miss them.  If we're organised we gather some up for marmalade making, but it's a shame to restrict them to our favourite toast topper. 

Despite their association with the Mediterranean, all members of the orange family originated in China and were brought to Europe by Arab traders.  Reaching for my invaluable Jane Grigson's Fruit Book I learn that the present day citrus groves stretching from India across to Spain mark out the trajectory of conquering muslim armies in the the sixth and seventh centuries.  The first oranges grown were the bitter Citrus aurantium.  Too bitter to eat from the tree, they were cultivated for the scent of their blossom, for perfumes and for distilling into orange blossom water to flavour food.

Seville Orange Tart

Sweet oranges, Citrus sinensis, arrived much later, coming from China to Europe via Portugal in the 17th century.  There is now a wide variety of citrus fruits, but the bitter orange continues to be grown in Spain as the 'Seville orange', mostly to satisfy the British taste for Marmalade.  There is more to the bitter orange than marmalade though.  The juice is an excellent variant for lemon flavoured dishes and the following recipe is essentially an orange curd tart.

Seville Orange Curd Tart

It is based on the Tarta de naranjas sevillanas from 'Moro The Cookbook' written by Sam & Sam Clark (which reminds me that I haven't yet introduced you to this book - a serious omission I will remedy soon).  I first ate the tart in their restaurant Moro several years ago and was very pleased to find the recipe in their first book.  The filling is entirely theirs and, I think, is perfect.  The pastry here is similar to theirs but is the one I often use for sweet tarts, being light and easy to work with. The pastry recipe will make twice as much as you need so use half and freeze the rest for next time.  To reduce the chance of curdling the eggs, I thicken my curd in a bowl set over a pan of simmering water rather than over direct heat.

The tart is aromatic, rich and creamy yet well balanced and light.  You could, if you have any, top each slice off with a little candied peel.  Don't throw away peel as you can candy it for use in cakes or ice creams.

Seville Orange Curd Tart

The texture of the curd can vary a little.  If you use slightly too much juice, as I sometimes do, stick to timings given but bake the tart in the oven for an extra 3-4 minutes.  You will get a little browning of the curd but the tart is none the worse for that.

Seville Orange Tart
(Serves 8)

PASTRY (makes 2 x 22cm tart cases):
250g (10oz) plain flour
25g (1oz) ground almonds
Pinch of salt
150g(5oz) butter
60g (2oz) icing sugar
Grated rind of half a lemon
1 egg yolk
3 tablespoons milk

SEVILLE ORANGE CURD:
170ml (6fl oz) Seville orange juice (about 5 fruits)
170g(6oz)  unsalted butter, in small dice
4 egg yolks + 2 whole eggs (large)
140g( 5oz) caster sugar
Finely grated zest of ¼ orange (Seville is fine)

Sift the flour into a mixing bowl and add the ground almonds and salt. Add the butter and rub in with fingertips. Sift in icing sugar and add grated lemon rind and mix. Lightly beat the egg yolk and milk together and stir into the dry ingredients. Mix until the dough just comes together then turn out and knead gently to smooth the surface.  Wrap half of the pastry and rest in fridge for just 30 minutes (wrap and freeze the other half for another time). 

Pre-heat the oven to 200C (180C fan oven) Lightly butter a 23cm shallow, loose-bottomed tart tin.   Roll out the pastry and line the tin, smoothing off the top and pricking the base several times with a fork.  Rest in the fridge for a further 15-30 minutes.  Line with greasproof paper and dried beans and bake the tart blind for 10 minutes.  Remove the lining and beans and return the tart to the oven for a further 5 minutes to make sure the base is well cooked and lightly browned.  Remove from the oven and put to one side.

Increase the oven temperature to 220C (200C fan).  Mix all the filling ingredients in a glass bowl over a pan of simmering water (the bowl should not touch the water as too much heat will curdle the mix).  Stir constantly for about 20 minutes until the mixture thickens - this will happen right at the end, so don't give up hope.  It's ready when it has thickened but is still pourable - you are not looking for a stiff curd.  Should you detect little white albumen globules forming towards the end, pass your curd through a sieve into the tart, otherwise just pour the curd into the base and bake on the top shelf of the oven for 10 minutes until set.  Cool before serving.  Moro serves this tart with yoghurt or crème fraîche but, for me, it's delicious on its own.