June 10, 2020


I made this tart this time last year while my brother was staying with us in France on holiday.  The cherries were from our own cherry tree and the recipe was in a book by Ed Kimber.
It was delicious!

Sadly, our cherry tree died after the heatwaves we had in France last summer.  However, the cherry season is upon us and there are plenty to buy in the shops, on both sides of the English Channel.  Not only that but I have tracked down the recipe!

It is essentially a custard tart with cherries in it, although a much richer custard tart than I usually make.  The recipe uses sweet shortcrust pastry.  For mine I cheated and used an oblong ready made puff pastry, just because I already had it in stock.
The traditional cherry custard dessert would be a clafoutis, universally popular at this time of year.  It's similar but different, being made with cherries and a rich batter but no pastry crust.  My favourite clafoutis recipe is here.
This is where we ate it.
Daisy kept a watch for passing wildlife that might have had their eye on it.
Hugo kept a watch for any fallen bits of pie that might come his way.
It being that time of year, we sat out late, listening to the crickets, the owls and the swallows.  When the swallows had gone to bed the bat formation team came out to entertain us. 
I miss all that, more than I ever could have imagined.
Shop bought pastry, sweet, shortcrust or puff (or make your own)
6 egg yolks
75g caster sugar
250ml whipping cream
100ml milk
150g cherries, stoned
Butter a 23cm round or an oblong tart tin.  Roll out the pastry to fit the tin then put in the fridge for 15 minutes.
Preheat the oven to 200C / 180 fan / gas mk 6.   Line the pastry case with baking paper and baking beans and blind bake for 15 minutes.  Remove the paper and beans and bake for a further 5 minutes.
Reduce the oven temperature to 170C / 160 fan / gas mk 3.
In a medium bowl, whisk the egg yolks, sugar, cream and milk together until well combined.  Pour into the pastry shell and scatter the stoned cherries evenly over the top.
Bake for 25-30 minutes until just set with a slight wobble.  Remove from the oven and allow to cool completely.  Dust with icing sugar before serving.
Serves 8.


  1. Somehow your blog title rings a bell; have we bumped into each over the years? Gently.

    I'm here because a certain Tom Stephenson commented on my most recent post about doing journalistic interviewing. There was a knowingness about the way he writes. If he does a blog he keeps it secret but yours was among the blogs he follows and I thought I'd mosey over.

    I do not bake (I'm married to one who does) but baking interests me from a molecular-chemico point of view; the sheer modern-day magic of turning a disparate set of ingredients (some inedible) into a structure that resembles none of them never fails to entrance me. Yesterday my choice was solicited and a seed cake was created in time for my brunch-time coffee. It's the most adult cake I know. I'm sure I don't need to elaborate.

    If we did pass by like ships in the night it's not surprising. I've been francophile for half my very advanced years. For a decade we had a house in Loire Atlantique. One of my favourite novels is Gros Calin, Romain Gary. If you've read it my bet is you did so in the original

    1. Roderick, our paths may have crossed before as it looks like we have both been blogging for a long time.
      Seed cake is one of my absolute favourites. My grandmother used to make it, possibly for its "medicinal" benefits, but I just like the taste! Even my OH, who claims to like very few cakes, will eat a slice of it. Sadly, it's not to everyone's taste so I rarely make it as I'd have to eat it all myself.