Broccoli and Carrot Pie with a Nutmeg-Mustard Custard

<p>Most savoury vegetable pies treat the vegetables as an afterthought, a token bit of green swimming in cheese sauce under a lid of pastry. This one does the opposite: broccoli and carrot are the point, set in a light, just-firm custard in an open, blind-baked case, more the French quiche or savoury tart than a stodgy double-crust pie. My twist is in the custard, a quarter-teaspoon of freshly grated nutmeg and a teaspoon of Dijon mustard, which between them stop the cheese-and-cream base tasting flat and give the whole thing a gentle, savoury lift you can&rsquo;t quite place.</p> <div class="recipe-card" id="recipe"> <div class="recipe-card-head"><p class="recipe-card-title">Broccoli and Carrot Pie with a Nutmeg-Mustard Custard</p> <div class="recipe-card-actions"><a class="recipe-pin" href="https://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/button/?description%3dBroccoli%2band%2bCarrot%2bPie%2bwith%2ba%2bNutmeg-Mustard%2bCustard%26media%3dhttps%253A%252F%252Fmedia.vo.rs%252Fbroccoli-pie.jpg%26url%3dhttps%253A%252F%252Fvo.rs%252Fstory%252Fdelicious-broccoli-carrot-pie%252F" target="_blank" rel="nofollow noopener" aria-label="Save to Pinterest"><i class="fab fa-pinterest-p fa-fw"></i>&nbsp;Save</a><button type="button" class="recipe-print" onclick="window.print()" aria-label="Print recipe"><i class="fas fa-print fa-fw"></i>&nbsp;Print</button> </div> </div> <div class="recipe-meta"><span class="recipe-meta-item"><span class="recipe-meta-label">Serves</span>6 servings</span><span class="recipe-meta-item"><span class="recipe-meta-label">Prep</span>90 min</span><span class="recipe-meta-item"><span class="recipe-meta-label">Cook</span>45 min</span><span class="recipe-meta-item"><span class="recipe-meta-label">Cuisine</span>European</span><span class="recipe-meta-item"><span class="recipe-meta-label">Course</span>Main course</span></div> <div class="recipe-cols"> <div class="recipe-ingredients"> <h3>Ingredients</h3> <ul><li>200g plain flour, plus extra for rolling</li><li>175g cold unsalted butter, cubed</li><li>2 to 3 tbsp ice-cold water</li><li>0.5 tsp fine salt (for the pastry)</li><li>1 medium head of broccoli (about 350g), cut into small florets</li><li>2 medium carrots (about 200g), diced small</li><li>4 large eggs</li><li>240ml double or whipping cream</li><li>175g Emmental cheese, grated</li><li>0.25 tsp freshly grated nutmeg (the twist)</li><li>1 tsp Dijon mustard (the twist)</li><li>0.5 tsp fine salt (for the custard)</li><li>0.25 tsp black pepper</li></ul> </div> <div class="recipe-method"> <h3>Method</h3> <ol><li>Rub the cold cubed butter into the flour and 0.5 tsp salt until the mixture looks like coarse breadcrumbs, then add the ice-cold water a tablespoon at a time and bring together into a smooth dough. Flatten into a disc, wrap and chill for 1 hour.</li><li>Blanch the broccoli florets and diced carrots in salted boiling water for 4 minutes, then drain well and spread on a clean tea towel to cool and dry for 10 minutes.</li><li>Roll out the chilled dough on a floured surface to about 3mm thick, line a greased 23cm tart tin, prick the base with a fork, and chill for 15 minutes.</li><li>Preheat the oven to 200C fan. Blind-bake the pastry case with baking beans for 15 minutes, remove the beans and bake for a further 5 minutes until the base is dry and pale gold.</li><li>Whisk together the eggs, cream, grated Emmental, nutmeg, Dijon mustard, 0.5 tsp salt and the pepper until smooth.</li><li>Scatter the dried broccoli and carrots evenly over the base, then pour the custard over so the vegetables are just submerged.</li><li>Bake at 180C fan for 30 to 35 minutes until the custard is set with only a faint wobble in the centre and the top is golden.</li><li>Cool for 15 minutes before slicing, so the custard firms up and slices cleanly.</li></ol> </div> </div> </div><h2 id="where-a-vegetable-tart-like-this-comes-from">Where a vegetable tart like this comes from</h2><div class="ad-unit ad-in-article" aria-label="Advertisement"> <span class="ad-label">Advertisement</span> <ins class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block;text-align:center" data-ad-client="ca-pub-3726833845844946" data-ad-slot="3291553914" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true"></ins> <script>(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});</script> </div> <p>The open savoury custard tart is really a quiche, and the quiche is older and less French than its reputation suggests. It comes from Lorraine, the region straddling the modern French-German border, and the word itself is thought to derive from the German <em>Kuchen</em>, meaning cake. The original <em>quiche lorraine</em> of the sixteenth century was a bread-dough base filled with an egg-and-cream custard and smoked bacon; cheese was a later addition, and one that purists in Lorraine still grumble about. The shortcrust pastry and the free-for-all of fillings we now take for granted came much later, as the dish spread out of Lorraine and became a staple of French home cooking and, by the middle of the twentieth century, of British and American entertaining too.</p> <p>Broccoli, oddly, arrived in that tradition late. Though it was grown in Italy from Roman times and takes its name from the Italian <em>broccolo</em>, a flowering crest, it barely registered in northern European or British kitchens until the twentieth century. Carrots, by contrast, have been cultivated for well over a thousand years, the familiar orange root itself a relatively recent thing, bred up from purple and yellow varieties by Dutch growers in the seventeenth century. Put the two together in a custard tart and you get a genuinely modern dish, sweet root against earthy green, that would have baffled a cook in old Lorraine but makes complete sense on a weeknight now.</p> <h2 id="why-this-method-works">Why this method works</h2> <p>The single biggest failure with any vegetable tart is a soggy bottom, and it has two causes: a wet filling and an under-baked case. This recipe heads off both. Blanching the broccoli and carrots for exactly 4 minutes cooks them through just enough while keeping their colour and bite, and then, crucially, they go onto a tea towel to steam off and dry. Wet vegetables poured into raw custard release their water into the crust as they bake, and no amount of oven time will crisp it back up.</p> <p>Blind-baking the case matters just as much. Baking the pastry empty first, weighed down with baking beans, sets and dries it before the wet custard ever touches it, so you get a crisp, biscuity base rather than a pale, damp one. It is the same instinct behind properly baking out the base of a fruit pie such as a <a href="/story/blackberry-apple-pie/">blackberry and apple pie</a>, where a wet filling is forever threatening the pastry beneath it.</p> <p>The custard itself is a ratio worth remembering: roughly one egg to 60ml of cream gives a set that is firm enough to slice but still tender, never rubbery. Bake it too hot or too long and the eggs tighten and weep, leaving a grainy, curdled filling; the drop to 180C fan once the vegetables are in, and pulling it out while the centre still has a faint wobble, are what keep it silky. It will carry on cooking from residual heat as it cools, which is why that wobble is not underdone; a tart baked until the middle is completely firm in the oven will be overset by the time it reaches the plate.</p> <p>The nutmeg and mustard earn their place here for a specific reason. Egg-and-cream custards, for all their richness, can taste oddly flat and one-note, especially with a mild cheese like Emmental. Nutmeg has a warm, faintly bitter edge that lifts dairy, which is exactly why it turns up in béchamel and in spinach; a little goes a long way, and too much tips into medicinal, so a quarter-teaspoon is plenty. The Dijon does something different: its sharp acidity cuts the fat and its own savoury depth amplifies the cheese, so the tart tastes more cheesy without any more cheese in it. Neither is loud enough to identify on its own, which is the point.</p> <h2 id="getting-the-pastry-right">Getting the pastry right</h2><div class="ad-unit ad-in-article" aria-label="Advertisement"> <span class="ad-label">Advertisement</span> <ins class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block;text-align:center" data-ad-client="ca-pub-3726833845844946" data-ad-slot="3291553914" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true"></ins> <script>(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});</script> </div> <p>Cold is the single word to keep in mind. The butter should be fridge-cold and cubed, the water genuinely iced, and your hands quick and light. The pockets of solid butter, rubbed only to a coarse-crumb stage and not smeared into paste, melt in the oven and steam the pastry apart into short, flaky layers; butter that has warmed and blended into the flour gives a dense, greasy crust instead. If your kitchen is hot or the dough starts to feel soft and sticky at any point, stop and chill it for 20 minutes before carrying on.</p> <p>Resting the dough for the full hour matters too. It lets the flour hydrate evenly and, more importantly, relaxes the gluten you developed while bringing it together, so the rolled pastry does not spring back or shrink down the sides of the tin as it bakes. Roll it a little larger than the tin, ease it in without stretching, and leave the excess hanging over the edge until after blind-baking, then trim it flush; pastry pushed and stretched to fit will always pull back and slump.</p> <h2 id="making-it-step-by-step">Making it, step by step</h2> <p>Rub the cold cubed butter into the flour and half a teaspoon of salt until it looks like coarse breadcrumbs, then bring it together with ice-cold water, a tablespoon at a time, into a smooth dough. Handle it as little as possible; overworked pastry turns tough. Flatten into a disc, wrap and chill for an hour so the butter firms and the gluten relaxes.</p> <p>Blanch the broccoli florets and diced carrots in salted boiling water for 4 minutes, drain well, and spread them on a clean tea towel to dry for 10 minutes. Meanwhile roll the chilled dough out to about 3mm thick, line a greased 23cm tart tin, prick the base, and chill it again for 15 minutes. Blind-bake at 200C fan for 15 minutes with baking beans, then remove the beans and bake for a further 5 minutes until the base is dry and pale gold.</p> <p>Whisk the eggs, cream, grated Emmental, nutmeg, Dijon, half a teaspoon of salt and the pepper together until smooth. Scatter the dried vegetables over the base, pour the custard over to just submerge them, and bake at 180C fan for 30 to 35 minutes, until set with only a faint wobble at the centre. Cool for 15 minutes before slicing so the custard firms up and cuts cleanly.</p> <h2 id="substitutions-and-variations">Substitutions and variations</h2> <p>Emmental gives a mild, nutty melt, but Gruyère is richer and more savoury, a mature cheddar sharper, and a crumble of feta added on top before baking brings a salty tang that works well with the carrot. Frozen broccoli and carrots are fine out of season; blanch them straight from frozen for the same 4 minutes and dry them just as thoroughly. A handful of chopped fresh dill or chives whisked into the custard is lovely, as is a little grated Parmesan over the top for a browned crust. For a heartier tart, scatter a few strips of fried smoked bacon or some sautéed leeks in with the vegetables.</p> <h2 id="serving-it">Serving it</h2> <p>This is a tart that suits being the centre of a meal rather than a side. A sharp, well-dressed green salad is the classic partner, its acidity cutting the richness of the custard, and a few boiled new potatoes turn it into a proper dinner. It is equally at home warm from the oven or at room temperature, so it works as readily for a relaxed lunch as for a supper, and it travels well for a picnic. A spoonful of chutney or a dollop of grainy mustard alongside picks up the Dijon already in the custard.</p> <h2 id="storage-and-make-ahead">Storage and make-ahead</h2> <p>The pastry case can be made and blind-baked a day ahead and kept, covered, at room temperature. You can also blanch and dry the vegetables the day before and keep them chilled, so on the day itself it is only a matter of mixing the custard and baking. The baked tart keeps in the fridge for up to 3 days and is genuinely good cold, which makes it ideal for a packed lunch or a picnic alongside a sharp green salad. To reheat, warm slices in a 160C fan oven for about 10 minutes rather than the microwave, which softens the pastry. It also freezes well: cool completely, wrap individual slices, and reheat from frozen in a moderate oven until piping hot through. If you like this sort of vegetable-forward cooking, my <a href="/story/spiced-carrot-ginger-soup/">spiced carrot and ginger soup</a> leans on the same natural sweetness of the carrot and makes a good starter before the tart.</p>