Make this. At least once, if not regularly. Your house will smell heavenly and your household—if not too curmudgeonly in the morning—might look to you with some gratitude. It’s good for breakfast, tea and even cold straight from the fridge. Days after. I can attest to that.
Used the last of summer fruits (not quite enough alas) but last week, we had red currants and blackberries, which I dropped in whole, as I like the contrast of sour. Watch out though for squirting when you bite into it.
Use your usual brioche recipe (mine is below). For the filling, I use whatever I have at hand: cream, ricotta, or better still, fresh raw-milk cream from the fromager in the market. Drop in one or two eggs (if too watery, use more yolks than whole eggs). Sprinkle some sugar. Lemon zest. Plop in the fruits, the more the better.
Brioche (Makes 1 very big tarte briochée)
3g Instant yeast
2 Large eggs (save the tiniest bit for egg washing the sides)
125g Butter (I used slightly less this time, about 110g)
I mix everything then work in the butter bit by bit. Slow and long mixing till gluten is well developed. One-two hours outside, a fold, then into the fridge.
The next morning, roll out the dough. I also bounce it about my knuckles to thin out the middle. I use a lid or plate (lightly greased) to weigh down the middle. Proof till puffy.
Preheat oven to 200 degrees celsius. I like to bake it on the stone as the heat helps to ‘set’ the bottom fast.
Fill the middle. The middle needs to be sufficiently thin as the brioche will puff up in the oven and if too thick, might remain uncooked. But don’t spring a leak! Egg wash the sides.
Glide as gently as possible into the oven. There is a scary moment when the quivering pond lurches to the side and threatens to spill but all is well.
Bake for some 30 mins. Watch out for browning and I had to tent with foil halfway through. I always have moments of doubt about its doneness—crust getting too hard! cream’s drying out, but is the middle cooked through?? I err on the cooked side.
Hours later, when you’ve forgotten you made this, the lingering sweet butteriness in the air (faint, not full-on like a tart or pie or cake) will remind you.