Passport & Plate - Mediterranean tart
France | Friday, March 6, 2015 | 5 photos
Ingredients
Ingredients for the tart
1 Roll of Shortcrust Pastry
Whatever tomatoes are available to you
A large handful of basil
A ball of mozzarella/whatever soft cheese you have
1 Red Onion
1 tbsp Olive Oil
1 tbsp Red wine vinegar
1 tbsp sugar
For the pesto
A handful of spinach and basil
2 Tbsps of parmesan
1 tbsp of lemon juice
1 tbsp olive oil
3 cloves of garlic
Salt and Pepper
For the green beans
Enough green beans for 4
1 tbsp Dijon mustard
1 tbsp white or red wine vinegar
1 tbsp olive oil
Salt and Pepper
How to prepare this recipePreheat the oven to 180 degrees if fan – 200 degrees if not.
Begin with the red onion. Chop it up into diced pieces and add to a pan with the olive oil and turn on to a medium heat. Once the onions start ‘sweating’ add the red wine vinegar and the sugar and bring down to a low heat for 10 minutes or until nicely caramelised.
Now, make the pesto (nut free). In a food processor add the spinach, basil, parmesan, lemon juice, salt and pepper. Pulse until it comes together adding olive oil bit-by-bit as necessary.
Lay out your pastry with the baking sheet still on and score 2cm in from the edges to create a rectangle. Now add the pesto all over (inside the rectangle) and add the caramelised onions.
Put this in the oven for 10 minutes.
Whilst this is cooking, prepare your beans. Add them to a pan of boiling water for 4 minutes. Drain. Make the dressing by mixing together the mustard, vinegar, olive oil and salt and pepper to taste. Add the dressing to the still warm beans.
Now take your tart out of the oven and cover with chopped tomatoes, basil and mozzarella. Bake for further 5 mins.
Serve still warm with the green beans, avocado (a personal preference) and a leafy green salad.
The story behind this recipeI have never travelled the world, or had a large extended family to visit, no ‘hand-me-down’ traditions or memories from far off places. However, this does not hinder my unrequited love of food.
A few years back, my dad learnt that two of his friends had purchased a very rickety and dilapidated farmhouse in the south of France. One summer, they offered to come join them and my parents jumped at the chance. For the past seven years I have been going nearly almost every summer and during this time the ex-farmhouse has turned into a phenomenal renovation; a place of utter tranquillity and stillness that I crave year round.
One of the caveats of discovering a place as marvellous as this is the lack of amenities nearby. Twin that with a house that sleeps sixteen people and you have a bit of a predicament. So enter our Mediterranean tart – a simple dish that is now, for me, only appropriate after a hard day of eating croissants with confiture d'abricot, bobbing in the pool and wistfully listening to old vinyl’s in the lounge.
As suggested before, our admittance to this serene and peaceful place is often free or at least heavily subsidised. My role as chief cook is one that was bestowed upon me willingly. My Mediterranean tart spun from what little products we could find locally but also through what we could cook in quantity.
And so, when the tart was first ready with its soft, popping tomatoes, on a bed of flaky, buttery pastry and garlicky pesto topped with oozy cheese, I couldn’t think of a more perfect match than fresh, hot mustard drenched French green beans. My first tradition was born.
Months later, on cold, rainy days in Manchester, I dream of shooting stars falling across the clear night sky, reflecting off of the snow-capped Pyrenees in the distance and I think back to that Mediterranean tart. But not just the food but the memory it symbolises: re-discovering me, my family, a new novel, or piece of music and just finding peace once again for another year.
