Blood orange crostata
I adore blood oranges; it feels like I always have. It started in the 1970s when I lived in Italy with my parents and sister. I couldn’t quite believe that in Italy they had red oranges (I mean, weren’t they meant to be orange hence the name?). We didn’t have any in Australia. Now we do, though it hasn’t been that many years, and in late winter, we can find blood oranges at most fruit shops. They have a lovely taste, not as sweet as Navels or Valencia, but with a slight bitterness and a rich sweetness that some say is like raspberries, and ruby red streaked flesh that stains the white pith when they are cut in half (and your marble work bench if you are not careful).
I remember sitting on my father’s knee when I was 4 or 5; he would slices oranges for me to eat while we watched TV. He would peel them, removing all the white pith and cut them into thick pinwheel-like slices ready for me to eat. When I was a bit older (and still a bit fussy), I refused to eat the orange segments that were handed out at half time during netball matches. Segments seemed so utilitarian compared to colourful pinwheels, and the texture seemed wrong as you had to bite through the membrane to get to the sweet juicy inner flesh. Even nowadays I peel then slice regular oranges into pinwheels. But my favourite oranges are the blood variety. Cut one open and you get a stunning array of colours, from orange to deep red, you never quite know how deep the red will be. You wouldn’t see this if they were in segments.
I make a crostata to highlight the beautiful colour gradient you often see in blood oranges. It is a simple slightly salty shortcrust base, layer of home made sweet orange jam (recipe in my cookbook Adriatico) or apricot jam and thin slices of jewel-like blood oranges.
Blood orange crostata
250g plain flour
60g sugar
big pinch fine sea salt (to taste)
125g unsalted butter, cut into small dice and cold from the fridge
1 egg, lightly whisked and mixed with
1/2 tsp pure vanilla essence
1/3 jar sweet orange jam (not marmalade) or apricot jam
2-3 blood oranges, peeled and cut into slices
1 – 2 teaspoons sugar extra
Extra thick Greek yoghurt or creme fraiche to serve
To make the pastry, place the flour, sugar and salt in a large bowl and give a quick whisk to combine. Alternatively you could place it in the bowl of a food processor and pulse briefly. Drop in the cold butter and rub into the dry ingredients with your fingers tips until it resembles wet sand. Add the egg and vanilla, gently bringing the pastry together into a ball. Add a teaspoon or two of cold water if the mixture does not come together easily.
You could also make the pastry in a food processor by pulsing the butter into the dry ingredients then dropping in the egg (and cold water if needed) until the dough comes together. Flatten the pastry into a thick disc with the palm of your hand and wrap in baking paper or cling film and place in the fridge for at least an hour (overnight is fine).
Turn the oven on to 180C conventional. Roll your pastry out between two sheets of baking paper (or cling film or just using a floured work surface) until it is slightly larger than the base of your tart tin. I use a 24cm diameter tin with a removable base lined with baking paper. Place the rolled out pastry on the lined tin, pressing it down and halfway up the sides of the tin. Trim the pastry sides with a sharp knife until they are even and no more than 1cm higher than the pastry base. Prick the base with the tines of a fork, cover with baking paper and place in the freezer to chill for 15 minutes.
Place the jam on the pastry base so that it is covered by a thin layer. Assemble the blood orange slices so that the edges of the slices touch, trimming them to fit if necessary. Sprinkle 1-2 teaspoons of sugar evenly over the blood orange slices.
Bake for about an hour or until the edges of the pastry are golden. Allow to cool in the tin completely before serving with thick Greek yoghurt or creme fraiche.