Cherry and Almond Frangipane Galette

A free-form tart that forgives you everything

Cherry and Almond Frangipane Galette

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ServesServes 6 to 8Prep30 minCook45 minCuisineFrenchCourseDessert

Ingredients

  • 250g plain flour, plus extra for dusting
  • 0.5 tsp fine salt
  • 1 tsp caster sugar
  • 180g cold unsalted butter, diced
  • 4 to 5 tbsp ice-cold water
  • 80g unsalted butter, softened, for the frangipane
  • 80g caster sugar
  • 100g ground almonds
  • 1 large egg
  • 1 tbsp plain flour
  • 0.5 tsp almond extract
  • 400g cherries, stoned and halved (fresh or frozen and thawed)
  • 1 egg, beaten, to glaze
  • 2 tbsp flaked almonds
  • 1 tbsp demerara sugar, for sprinkling

Method

  1. Make the pastry: rub or pulse the flour, salt, sugar and cold butter until the mixture looks like coarse breadcrumbs with a few larger flecks of butter remaining.
  2. Add the ice-cold water a tablespoon at a time until the dough just holds together when pressed. Shape into a flat disc, wrap and chill for at least an hour.
  3. Make the frangipane: beat the softened butter and sugar until pale, then beat in the egg, ground almonds, flour and almond extract to a smooth paste.
  4. Heat the oven to 190C fan and line a large baking tray with greaseproof paper.
  5. Roll the chilled pastry on a floured surface into a rough circle about 32cm across and lift onto the tray.
  6. Spread the frangipane over the pastry, leaving a 6cm border bare all the way round.
  7. Pile the halved cherries over the frangipane, then fold the bare border up and over the filling, pleating as you go and leaving the centre open.
  8. Brush the pastry edge with beaten egg, scatter with flaked almonds and sprinkle the whole galette with demerara sugar.
  9. Bake for 40 to 45 minutes until the pastry is deep golden and the frangipane is set and puffed.
  10. Cool on the tray for 15 minutes before sliding onto a board. Serve warm or at room temperature.

There is a particular kind of pudding that rewards confidence over precision, and the galette is its patron saint. Where a proper tart demands a tin, blind baking and a neatly crimped edge, a galette asks only that you roll out some pastry, pile filling in the middle and fold the edges up however they happen to fall. The rougher it looks, the more charming it is. This one pairs cherries with frangipane, the soft almond cream that turns up under fruit in French bakeries everywhere, and the small clever twist is a good slug of almond extract that makes the cherries taste somehow more like themselves.

In France the word galette covers a confusing range of things, from the buckwheat pancakes of Brittany to the puff-pastry kings’-cake eaten at Epiphany. The version we mean here, a free-form fruit tart on a single round of pastry, is closer to what an American baker might call a crostata, borrowed in turn from rustic Italian baking. The unifying idea is humility: this is the tart you make when you do not own a fluted tin, or cannot face the fuss of one. It began as country baking, a way to use a glut of summer fruit without ceremony, and that lack of ceremony is exactly why it has survived. A galette that slumps a little, leaks a little juice and browns unevenly still looks beautiful, because nobody expected it to look perfect.

Cherries and almonds belong together for botanical reasons as much as culinary ones, since the cherry is a stone fruit closely related to the almond and the two share aromatic compounds. Crack a cherry stone and it smells faintly of marzipan. Baking them together is simply leaning into a kinship that already exists.

Start with the pastry, because it needs a proper rest. Keep everything cold and handle it as little as possible, leaving a few visible flecks of butter in the dough, since these melt in the oven and create flaky layers. Rest it for at least an hour so the gluten relaxes and the pastry rolls without springing back or shrinking.

The frangipane comes together in one bowl: beat softened butter with sugar, then the egg, ground almonds, a spoon of flour and the almond extract. Spread it across the rolled pastry, but keep a generous bare border, because that is what you fold up to make the rim. Pile the halved cherries on top, then fold the border up and over in loose pleats, leaving the middle open so the fruit shows and the juices can bubble. Brush the pastry with beaten egg for shine, throw on flaked almonds and a good sprinkle of demerara for crunch, then bake hot until the base is properly cooked through. The single most common galette failure is a soggy bottom, so do not pull it out early; you want a deep golden, almost biscuity underside.

If you are using frozen cherries, thaw them and drain off the liquid thoroughly, or the galette will weep. A spoonful of ground almonds or fine semolina scattered over the frangipane before the fruit acts as a sponge for any stray juice and protects the pastry. Fresh cherries in high summer need nothing more than stoning; out of season, frozen are honestly excellent here and far less work.

The pastry can be made up to three days ahead, or frozen for a month, and the frangipane keeps a couple of days in the fridge. You can even assemble the whole galette, freeze it solid on the tray, then bake from frozen with an extra ten minutes or so, which makes it a brilliant thing to have waiting for guests. Cherries are the obvious filling but the same template welcomes apricots, plums, blackberries or sliced pears, and the frangipane base means almost any fruit will taste as though it was meant to be there.

If the pastry tears as you fold it, do not panic; a galette is meant to look hand-built, and a small patch of overlapping pastry or a damp finger pressed along a crack will hold everything together. Should juice escape and catch on the tray, it caramelises into chewy, jammy bits that are honestly some of the best parts. The most important things are a properly chilled dough and a hot oven, so that the base sets and browns before the fruit can soak it. Serve it warm with cold cream or a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and accept the compliments for something that asked almost nothing of you.

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Fern
Written by Fern

vo.rs's resident home cook. A firm believer that the best recipes are the classics with one small, clever twist, Fern cooks the way most of us actually do: in a normal kitchen, on a normal weeknight, without a brigade of sous-chefs. Expect generous flavour, honest shortcuts and strong opinions about garlic.