Tartine

INTRODUCTION

Tartine is a neighborhood bakery and café at the intersection of Mission and Guerrero streets, near the geographical center of San Francisco, just a few blocks away from the Spanish mission church of Saint Francis, completed in 1791. The bakery dates back to only 2002, the year my husband, Chad Robertson, and I moved into the neighborhood. We had been married and baking together for nearly ten years, most of them spent in the country, and it was time to move our life and our business back to the city, to a neighborhood that was full of diversions and diversity, with a busy hum and a quirky look, where live new music was never far away. We named our bakery Tartine because the bread Chad bakes is central to our enterprise, and the French tartine is a piece of bread—any size, sliced or torn, grilled or not—on which something is spread: usually a little jam and butter for an everyday breakfast, but also such things as tomatoes, goat cheese, and olive oil for a Provençal picnic or some smoked eel for a fisher-man’s lunch.

We both knew exactly the kind of establishment we wanted: a bread bakery, pastry shop, and café that would vibrate with the same youthful energy as our clientele, where we could lead the life we want and make the things we like the best. We have tried to make Tartine look like it belongs exactly where it is: we hang pictures by local artists and change them every few weeks, we didn’t over -design or over decorate, and we let the sun shine in. The café customers can get a little crowded around their tables, but we give the food some room to speak for itself.

We’re both purists when it comes to ingredients and presentation: we believe in keeping it simple. We want our cakes to look as natural as the flowers we use to decorate them, our pies and tarts and fruit desserts to change with the seasons, and our cookies to look like they’re made with loving hands. But most of all, we want everything we make to taste of what was used to make it.

In order to achieve that kind of simplicity, everyone at Tartine approaches his or her work more like a savory cook than a traditional pastry chef. We consider components of flavor and the seasonality of ingredients, and we strive to contrast textures and to season to taste—all practices more common to a restaurant kitchen than to a typical bakery. We start from scratch every day and produce a supply of baked goods that will be sold out that same day. In other words, we work as à la minute as anyone can in a bakery. Of course, some bakery staples, such as certain pastry doughs and custard bases, are made a day or so ahead, but what you see in our shop was prepared that day to sell out quickly.

In other words, there is no nightshift at Tartine, no bakers baking pastries that will be held for hours before they’re sold. Our morning pastries don’t start coming out of the oven until soon after we open the front door for business. Throughout the morning, the scene is of breakfast pastries in constant motion: some are being formed, some are proofing, and some are baking; and at the same time, we are mixing doughs for the next day’s bake. One day while watching this steady parade, a friend who is also a baker observed, My lord, you’re baking in real time!

In this book, you will find recipes for many of Tartine’s best-loved breakfast pastries and more. Some are simple constructions, perfect for a quick bite with coffee, and others are more elaborate creations meant to be savored over a long breakfast or brunch. Still others are the way to end a meal on a decadent note, and a few are good for gift giving. The bakery always stocks a variety from each of these categories, with seasonal changes to keep the baker and eater interested, challenged, and anticipating what is coming next throughout the year.

These recipes are more than simply ingredients lists and general directions for assembling and baking. It is important to know how and why a recipe works, too, so each one includes both an introductory note, usually on how the recipe came to be or how it looks and tastes when it is on the table, and a section called Kitchen Notes, a bit of practical advice or insider’s know-how. This latter text is typically something about the recipe that I or others have learned in the kitchen as we worked.

It has been said that the skill of a cook can be measured in how he or she makes an omelet, a seemingly simple exercise. Putting together an omelet assesses the cook’s understanding of eggs and how they react not only to heat, but also to whisking, seasoning, the addition of ingredients, timing, and to various pieces of equipment. The same is true in pastry making. When cooks try out for a position in the Tartine kitchen, the first thing they do is make a batch of pastry cream and a génoise, two relatively easy tasks but with enough variables to make them challenging tests of the baker’s skill and focus. All of the senses are involved in these two recipes, and adjustments must be made quickly and precisely throughout the process. This is true for every recipe we make in the Tartine kitchen and every recipe you will make at home.

Many of the recipes are our versions of such classics as brownies or shortbread that are found in countless other bakery counters. But what sets our brownies apart from what you will find in most other display cases is our bakers’ understanding of the correct technique for making these ubiquitous favorites. You can have the best brownie recipe in the world, but if a brownie is slightly overbaked, it will not have the proper texture. In other words, while it will still be a decent brownie, it won’t be a Tartine brownie. This is true of all the recipes. In general, we are not doing things radically differently than what many other bakeries and restaurants do, but we strive to be conscious of every detail as we work. And we are extremely resolute on two aspects of everything we make: we use only the best-quality ingredients and we adhere to exacting standards of production. Attention to both is what makes the difference between something good and something exceptional emerging from the oven.

The formal, gilded pastries seen in many pastry shops look and feel rigid—labored over by too many hands for too much time. In contrast, the Tartine philosophy is that our pastries should look natural, rather than contrived, that everything we make should be an honest expression of the marriage of first-rate ingredients and experienced hands and minds. We see the nuances of flavor as another essential component of good pastry making, one that elsewhere is often ignored or buried under layers of sugar. We regularly experiment with flavors to gain a better understanding of the way they work together. For example, at the bakery we might add a squeeze of lemon juice to strawberries or a pinch of black pepper to the batter for a ginger tea cake to heighten the true flavor of the berries or the batter. Or, there are times when I will add a dash of orange-flower water to a Bavarian batter if I know that I am going to be serving it with a citrus compote after a Middle Eastern main course.

The flavor combinations and rules of preparation for most traditional recipes are grindingly pedantic. I remember being a young, tentative baker who slavishly followed each and every pinch and cupful, whether or not it seemed right. Even though I may have thought the recipe needed something more, I was afraid to stray from the formula on the page. Now I know that almost anything folded into croissant dough, from smoked ham, cheese, or chocolate to fresh fruit, results in a batch of delicious pastries. And I know that the same is true for scones, quiches, and countless other items.

I have also learned never to discriminate against any part of a fruit. A friend who runs a fresh juice stand at one of the local farmers’ markets was having a hard time getting her watermelon juice to taste right. Using only the ripe, sweet pink flesh of the melon didn’t do the trick; the result was a slushy, sugary drink without good melon flavor. She kept experimenting until she discovered that simply adding some puréed watermelon seeds to the drink produced a mouthful of true water-melon flavor—the taste of the seeds completed the picture. If we make a peach dessert at the bakery, for example, we often leave the skins on the fruits. The same is true for apples for a tart, if they are nice and fresh and the skins haven’t toughened from storage. Apple skins have a lot of flavor, and by leaving a little bit of skin on, you can end up with a more interesting texture and flavor than if you used soft-cooked peeled apples alone.

Because fruits play a big role in our kitchen, we are always thinking about ways to enhance their texture in what we make. We rarely strain berry purées, for example, for two reasons: an unstrained purée creates contrast on the palate and for the eye, and it clues the eater in to what the purée is made from, rather than it simply being a generic red berry sauce. Or, roasting strawberries whole for topping a bread pudding or as a garnish for ice cream is an unusual and a delicious alternative to using them fresh. The juices that come from roasting run clear, making a beautiful sauce; the fruit turns soft and luscious but stays intact; and the contrast of texture and temperature is wonderfully satisfying.

Newborn ideas come from things freshly looked at and learned, and of course, from memories of desserts past. Some of the recipes in this book are classic, like fruit cobbler or shortbread, and should always be that way. They were perfected long ago and don’t need to be changed. Some others, like Steamed Gingerbread Pudding or Lemon Cream Tart, are the product of new ways to make old favorites. As a baker, I am always intrigued by the use of different techniques to make something familiar, and as an eater, I am equally intrigued by the different texture and flavor that result from such changes.

In these pages, I have tried to pass along the enthusiasm we all have at Tartine for what we do and the knowledge we have gained baking over the years. I hope that what you find here will inspire you, whether a novice or a seasoned baker, not only to bake more but to learn more, too.

A Note on the Measurements

I have included three measuring systems for recipe ingredients: standard American volume measures, imperial fluid ounces and ounces, and metric milliliters and grams. American cooks traditionally use volume measures for both wet and dry ingredients, and you will achieve perfect results with the recipes if you use these measures consistently. Since these recipes are considerably scaled down for home use, small units of measure become difficult to weigh accurately. Because of this, we use teaspoons and tablespoons and the metric equivalent in milliliters. Note that the imperial and metric measurements have been rounded off, usually to the nearest ounce or gram.

BREAKFAST

CROISSANTS

BRIOCHE

BOSTOCK

BRIOCHE BREAD PUDDING

ALMOND BREAKFAST CAKE WITH FRESH FRUIT AND CRUMBLE TOPPING

BUTTERMILK SCONES

QUICHE

SAVORY BREAD PUDDING

When I think about how Chad and I started our bakery, some of my fondest memories are of making morning pastries together, just as some of my fondest childhood memories are of breakfast time, especially on weekends and holidays when we would start early and make all our family specialties for the relatives and friends who would gather around the table. My father’s side of the family is from the South, which meant biscuits, grits, fried meats and gravy, waffles, and eggs. My mother’s ancestors are Swedish, so on the mornings when our Scandinavian roots were being honored, we would make plattar, small, thin crêpelike pancakes, and serve them with lingonberry jam.

Of course, things have changed since Chad and I worked alone on the morning pastries. As Tartine has grown, we have added staff to cope with our steadily expanding early bake. Yet much about the place remains the same today: quiet morning hours, little talking, and just the sound of the mixer, of the oven doors, and of sheets of pastries sliding in and out of ovens and onto cooling racks. As the early morning bakers warm up the espresso machine, there is the grind of coffee beans—a sweet sound that anticipates the heavy production to come. The kitchen activity is calm and methodical, with hundreds of croissants pinned out, cut, and rolled; proofed; brushed with egg wash; and then baked. The work is part concentration, as we keep our minds on the dough on the workbench, in the proofer, and in the oven, and part instinctual, from the daily repetition of working with the same doughs over time.

The measure of success for all breakfast pastries, whether time-consuming croissants or quick-to-assemble scones, is freshness at the table. While cakes, cookies, and many other baked goods are typically designed to last for at least a short period of time, people usually want their breakfast pastries fresh and warm—as close to hot from the oven as possible. At Tartine, this means baking in small batches throughout the day, with the result that the staff is hard at work nearly all the time and that sometimes customers must wait a bit for the next batch to be pulled from the oven.

CROISSANTS

UNTIL THE EARLY 1970S, THE OPPORTUNITY TO ENJOY CROISSANTS in the United States was limited to French enclaves in a handful of cities and towns. Only then did these flaky, crescent-shaped pastries begin to appear in bakeries elsewhere in urban areas on the East and West coasts. Initially, their production adhered to traditional French techniques that had been introduced by bakers who had learned them from working in France. The process, which calls for laminating the leavened dough, was labor-intensive and demanded nothing less than the best ingredients. Over time, however, things changed in both the United States and France, and in general the quality of croissants fell dramatically due to mechanization, a widespread disregard for standards, and the use of cheaper ingredients, like margarine to replace butter. In the end, freshness and good taste were sacrificed in the interest of efficient distribution and profit. Today, some croissants are made in small batches in the honest, artisanal manner, but most are mass-produced with little regard to tradition.

At Tartine, we make them the traditional way, marrying a well-fermented, slightly sweet dough and the lamination process with a day’s forethought to yield what many consider the ideal breakfast pastry. Plain croissants are often eaten spread with jam and dunked into bowls of latte. The same dough can be used to make many other breakfast pastries. At Tartine, we stick with simple traditional variations, such as pain au chocolat and pain au jambon (see page 27), the first filled with chocolate and the second with ham and Gruyère cheese. We also use croissants as components of a number of our other offerings. Leftover croissants have typically been used in clever ways to minimize waste; at Tartine, we bake fresh croissants to make the usual by-products associated with unsold pastries. The most popular of these are frangipane croissants (croissants aux amandes) and bread pudding (see page 27).

YIELD

16 to 18 croissants

KITCHEN NOTES: To maintain the correct consistency of the dough and butter components, work in a cool kitchen up until the final rising of the shaped pastries. The preferment, a mixture of milk, yeast, and flour with the consistency of a batter, is left to rise so that it will ferment slightly, developing flavor and aroma, before the dough is mixed. It can be made in the morning and allowed to rise at room temperature for 2 to 3 hours to make the croissant dough the same day, or it can be made at night, put in the refrigerator to rise overnight, and used to make the croissant dough straightaway the next morning.

To make the preferment, in a small saucepan, warm the milk only enough to take the chill off. The milk should not be warm or cold to the touch but in between the two (80° to 90°F). Pour the milk into a mixing bowl, sprinkle the yeast over the milk, stir to dissolve the yeast with a wooden spoon, and then add the flour, mixing with the spoon until a smooth batter forms. Cover the bowl with cheesecloth and let the mixture rise until almost doubled in volume, 2 to 3 hours at moderate room temperature or overnight in the refrigerator.

To make the dough, first measure out all the ingredients and place them near at hand. Transfer the preferment and then the yeast to the large bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the dough hook. Mix on low speed until the yeast is incorporated into the preferment batter, which will take a minute or two. Stop the mixer as needed and use a spatula to clean the bottom and sides of the bowl, folding the loosened portion into the mixture to incorporate all the elements fully. When the mixture has come together into an even, well-mixed mass, increase the speed to medium, and mix for a couple of minutes. Slowly add half of the milk and continue to mix until the milk is fully incorporated.

Reduce the speed to low, add the flour, sugar, salt, melted butter, and the rest of the milk, and mix until the mass comes together in a loose dough, about 3 minutes. Turn off the mixer and let the dough rest for 15 to 20 minutes. This resting period helps to shorten the final mixing phase, which comes next.

Engage the mixer