For much my adult life I’ve been rendered sterile by the glory that is Implanon, a contraceptive implant that, for some users, stops your period, as well as the birthing of babies. While I’ve had many heated conversations with people about whether or not artificial amenorrhea is healthy (and I certainly do not want to rehash those arguments on this blog), I will say it’s pretty damned convenient to be able to switch your uterus off completely. However, as I ease out of my early twenties and into my mid twenties, my uterus has woken up. While in terms of fertility my loins remain a barren wasteland, thank goodness, last year I went through a kind of second puberty and it was a bit unsettling. While I wholeheartedly resist the stereotype of the weepy, irrational, chocolate-devouring premenstrual woman, I’m discovering one or two grains of truth. For one thing I’m finding I do get a touch stroppy halfway through the month, as the foreign man discovered when I shook him awake early one morning to start a fight about his lack of faith in my stand-up comedy career. And then there’s, well…
I hate it. I hate that once a month I become drawn to all things chocolate, because it’s such a fucking stereotype. I wish I developed a longing for the tangy soft flesh of a baby harp seal, for instance, or buffalo testicles, or sea urchins, something other than ubiquitous chocolate. But, unfortunately, that is what my uterus wants, and when I saw this recipe for a chocolate and caramel tart in last month’s Delicious magazine it was all I could think about. And when I invited a few friends over for dinner one night it wasn’t dinner I was thinking of, it was this tart.
Sadly, hormones, dulce de leche, pastry and chocolate are a dangerous mix. For one thing I ran out of time to make this the night before, or even the morning before, as I ordinarily would with tricksy desserts. This lead to me doing a bit of a rush job on the tart, pulling it from the oven as people arrived for dinner. I then spent the next hour cursing away in the kitchen trying to get everything made while everyone waited patiently in the living room. It wasn’t the most pleasant way to spend an evening, I’ll tell you.
To make matters worse, the pastry cream-like chocolate layer split dramatically into a grainy, lumpy, ugly mess. Not wanting to waste all my effort and time I used it anyway, and when I took the tart out of the oven there was a rather unappealing film of white fat crusted around the base of the tart tin.
All in all, it was a bit of a palaver, but a delicious and very, very rich palaver. It was my first time baking with pastry, ever, and while some might judge the use of pre-made pastry that Carome pastry was so deliciously, astringently, deeply chocolate I don’t regret it at all. Please don’t judge the Carome for my poor effort.
I also got to make dulce de leche, something I’ve been wanting to do for ages. I used the method described in Delicious, of piercing a couple of holes in the top of the tin then simmering for three hours. In future I think I’ll live dangerously and do it the way the Argentinians do it, by boiling the tin unopened, as the condensed milk continuously leaked from the pierced tin and turned the water a most unwholesome colour. Dulce de leche is incredibly sweet, more so than I anticipated, and very, very thick, so I think if I was to make this again I’d stand the cooled tin in hot water for a few minutes before spreading it into the blind baked pastry case.
All that said, should you ever find yourself with an hysterical cacao craving this is a pretty efficient way to placate it.
Chocolate and Caramel Tart
via Delicious Magazine. Serves eight.
- 395g tin sweetened condensed milk
- 250g block Careme dark chocolate shortcrust pastry, or regular shortcrust pastry
- 225g good dark chocolate, chopped
- 2 eggs
- 150ml double cream
- 100ml milk
Remove the label from the tin and, if you’re squeamish, pierce a couple of holes in the top using a can opener and cover with tin foil. Place in a small saucepan and fill with cold water until about a centimetre from the top, or all the way if you’re living life dangerously and not piercing the tin. Bring to the boil, then bring reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer for three hours. Gingerly remove the tin and cool. You probably want to do this the night before.
Spray an 11 by 35cm loose-bottomed rectangular tart tin with oil. Roll out your pastry of choice between sheets of baking paper to 5mm thick and press into the tin, aiming to do a better job than my sorry, ragged effort. Chill for 20 minutes while you preheat the oven to 180 degrees C.
Line the pastry with baking paper and pastry weights, uncooked beans or uncooked rice and blind bake for 10 minutes, then remove paper and weights and bake for 5-10 more minutes until the pastry is dry.
Reduce the oven to 150 degrees C. Melt the chocolate in a heatproof bowl over a saucepan of gently simmering water, then gently whisk the eggs in a separate bowl until they’re just combined. Heat the cream and milk in a saucepan over medium heat until a few bubbles just begin to erupt at the surface, then pour over the eggs in a thin stream, stirring continuously. Return to the pan over low heat and stir for about 5 minutes until thick. Pour through a sieve over the bowl of chocolate, stirring gently until smooth.
Gently warm the tin of dulce de leche by standing it in hot water for a few minutes, then spread into the pastry case. Pour over the chocolaet, then bake for 5 minutes until just set. Leave the tart in the switched off oven for an hour with the door closed. Remove and cool completely before serving. I served it with creme fraiche to cut through the sweetness, and it was a very good idea.
