You might be asking yourself, Deb, why are you publishing a lemon tart recipe when the greatest lemon tart of all time already exists on your site? Okay, I’m embellishing a little, but I do really love the whole lemon tart and its sister recipe, the whole lemon bars in The Smitten Kitchen Cookbook every bit as much as you — the simplicity, the complexity, the surprise of it all.
But that doesn’t stop me from ever being able to resist a classic lemon curd tart (tarte au citron) in a pastry shop case. Ideally somewhere in Paris, where it’s a staple. Give me a crisp, buttery shell with a beaming puddle of silky lemon curd inside and I’m going to dive right in every time, and especially in winter when we’re crying out for more daylight and warmth.
What I didn’t have is my own go-to recipe for a classic lemon tart. Yes, the internet is full of great ones; so are my cookbook shelves. It wasn’t for a lack of options. It’s that I have a minor quibble with most. So many lemon curd tart recipes come from famous pastry shops and pastry chefs and that’s wonderful — for them. Or for me when I’m lucky enough to eat one they have presented.
But I am a home cook in a very basic kitchen with only a moderate amount of patience. I don’t want to have to figure out what to do with six egg whites when the filling only uses yolks. I don’t want to roll out a tart crust if I can just press it in. I don’t want to use pie weights, ever. I don’t want to use a thermometer to check the filling temperature. And I want to use butter in the amounts it’s packaged in — here, that’s 4-ounce sticks. Finally, I want the filling to fill out the shell, so it’s just as brimming with joy and skill as the ones the professionals make.
It took a few citrus seasons of tinkering but it’s ready and I couldn’t wait any longer (like, perhaps, for egg prices to come down) to share it with you because this is the One: a lemon tart for home cooks like me. It uses whole eggs, whole sticks of butter, no rolling pins, no pie weights, and you can skip the thermometer if you trust your eyes to know when the filling has thickened — or your wrist, as the whisk begins to drag. It’s fancy enough to be served to the fanciest people at the fanciest brunch, but simple and sunny enough to make a gusting, icy winter day feel at least briefly endurable. It’s zinging with lemon and just looking at it makes me happy. Having a slice with a dollop of cream and a handful of fresh berries? It’s an assignment.
Servings: 8
Time: 2 hours, plus cooling
Source: Smitten Kitchen
Crust
Filling
Transfer the saucepan to the stove and heat over low-medium, stirring constantly once the mixture begins to warm, until thickened, about 5 to 10 minutes. [It will thicken at about 175°F, or just below a simmer, but it should both look thicker and feel thicker, as your whisk will drag a little.] Add butter, a piece or two at a time, and stir until melted. Remove from heat and pour into the tart crust. (It’s fine if the crust is still hot from the oven.)
Source: Smitten Kitchen