Apricot and Poppyseed Crostata

A few years back when I was last in Rome, we lived in the neighborhood of one of the best biscotterias in town. Amongst display cases stacked with amazingly buttery cookies in the shop were cakestands with cloches covering beautifully made jam crostatas. There were only two flavors to choose from: "light" and "dark," which denoted the differences in jam filling. The "light" crostatas were usually filled with something like apricot jam or an apple or citrus marmalade, while the "dark" crostatas usually featured a core of dark berry jam. The crostatas wouldn't be pre-sliced. The proprietress behind the counter would ask us to indicate how large of a slice we want, then she would take a bench scraper and cut the desired slice, charging by weight. Along with the cookies, those slices of crostata were some of my favorite dessert items in Rome.

Since Rome, I've been increasingly infatuated with crostatas and jam tarts. As someone who is a bit obssessive-compulsive in collecting good jam and marmalade, jam tarts are some of the easiest ways for me to finish off large amounts of jam quickly. A while ago, I happened to be visiting at Blue Chair Fruit when Rachel Saunders (jam maker extraordinaire) was serving up slices of her take on an Italian crostata, and I've been hounding her for the recipe ever since. And finally, at last, the crostata recipe appears in the latest Blue Chair Fruit cookbook: Blue Chair Cooks. Naturally, it's the first recipe I turned to.

With a few tweaks on Rachel's recipe, I made an apricot-poppyseed version of the crostata, adding some meyer lemon zest, a sprinkle of lavender buds, and some orange blossom water to the crust for some extra floral flavor against the apricot. The poppyseeds add a satisfying crunch to the top of the crostata. In true Roman biscotteria fashion, I proudly presented the crostatas as my contribution to the annual holiday cookie swap this year. Because, if crostatas have a place in Italian biscotterias, they are more than good enough "cookies" for me.

Read on for recipe....

Almond and Stanford Citrus Marmalade Crostata

It is surely one of the laws of the universe that grad students are the only people who inhabit campus 365 days a year, even over the holidays, and even during that vacation week between Christmas and New Year's. But, you know? I don't care. Because this means that I had first dibs to the bountiful citrus harvest from the trees on campus this year! Haha, suckers! So the lesson? When life gives you lemons and forces you to work over Christmas break...   ....make marmalade! :D

I don't often say a lot of nice things about Stanford (after all, I have to maintain allegiance to my undergraduate alma mater--Go Bears!), but one thing I'll give it is the wonderful plethora of fruit trees on campus (plus, I would be hesitant to eat anything out of Berkeley trees, for I've heard those stories of toxic waste run-off in the creek!). In the corner where the history department is located on the Stanford campus sit loads and loads of citrus trees, with branches brimming full of white grapefruits! and oranges of all types! and lemons! Usually, when classes are in session, the low-hanging fruit gets picked off pretty quickly, but during the winter break, far more fruit remains in reach. So when two good friends (incidentally, from my undergraduate days at Berkeley) came to visit after Christmas, we made sure to go and plunder the Citrus Corner to our hearts' content.

With the resulting pounds upon pounds of random citrus fruits I ended up with on my kitchen table, I figured that the only course of action was to make marmalade--a Stanford citrus marmalade, to be exact--so that none of the fruit would go to waste waiting for me to eat it all. ... of course, then I had to figure out what to do with the resulting jars upon jars of the at once sweet and bitter but delicious through-and-through marmalade I ended up with after that. :)

Enter the almond and citrus marmalade crostata. For some reason, I used to be unconvinced that jam could make a robust-enough filling for a tart, eschewing it in favor of other types of tart fillings, like cream or even plain candied oranges. But then, at a recent Blue Chair Fruit event, I had my first encounter with a jam-filled crostata (an Italian-style tart). The nutty, substantially thicker, crumbly crust and the tightly-woven lattice top of a crostata, it turns out, make the perfect vessel for a thin but flavorful layer of sweet jam--better, in my opinion, than your average, more delicate pate sucree-style tart crust. Armed with my jars of marmalade, I jumped at the chance to try a crostata again, this time with the slightly bitter filling of the Stanford citrus marmalade.

I have to say that I think I prefer the marmalade version to a berry-based jam crostata, mainly because the sharp tangs of bitterness in the citrus punctuate the sweetness of the marmalade and almond buttery-ness in the crust. And, I also really liked the chewy chunks of candied citrus peel in the marmalade that texturally lend the tart a bit of bite every now and then. To serve, pair the crostata with some tea that has a spoonful of citrus marmalade mixed in for good measure. :)

Who says grad students can't have (delicious) fun over winter break?


Read on for recipe....