Malted chocolate tarts

I baked about a week ago now and had some problems with my laptop and didn’t want to blog on my phone and now here we are. Things are fixed and I can finally write about a thing I baked.

I know. You’re just dying to read about it.

First of all, I need to be upfront with you. I did not bake tarts.

This post is a lie.

In order to do twelve individual tarts, I’d need a bun tray and after some googling, I learned a bun tray is far different from a muffin tin and I didn’t want to buy yet another kitchen thing and I really do loathe cleaning muffin tins and 12 individual tarts are harder to share around than making one large tart, so I just made one large.

To sum up: I was lazy.

But the recipe could pretty much remain the same.

I had to buy malt powder, though, which was slightly confusing.

If you grew up with malt powder, you’re probably wondering why I found it such a struggle. But I did not grow up with malted drinks. Other than the occasionally Wendy’s Frosty, I never associated much with malted beverages. I definitely never made myself a malted drink of an evening.

So, again, after much googling I realized I needed to look for Ovaltine in my local grocery store.

I found it by the hot chocolate.

It was more expensive than the hot chocolate.

And came in a giant container, of which I only needed 25 grams plus a couple of teaspoons.

I wondered if I could just buy hot chocolate powder and call it a day. But I don’t think that’s how substitutions work. I don’t think you can just look for the nearby thing on the grocery store shelf and make that call.

I brought home the giant container of malt powder and immediately made the chocolate pastry so it had time to chill.

First I added the flour, salt, cocoa and icing sugar into the food processor bowl.

Then I pulsed it several times only to learn that pulsed powder goes everywhere.

Then I added the cold butter and ran the machine until it was fine crumbs.

Then I added the single egg yolk.

Apparently, if you run the machine, the mixture will come together to make “a ball of heavy, slightly sticky dough.”

I was dubious.

I ran it for a couple of minutes and it just looked crumby.

I was going to add water but something in me thought I should just run it for a little longer.

After what I felt was like too long for a food processor to run, it happened! The dough came together. The powder was absorbed by the egg yolk or whatever. And the pastry was perfect!

I swaddled it like a baby and popped it in the fridge (not what you do with babies, by the way).

*30 minutes later*

After half an hour, I took it out and started to roll it.

The recipe says “it’s easiest to roll out the dough between two large sheets of clingfilm because touching it with a rolling pin or hands dusted with flour can leave white marks.”

So I did. I rolled it out between two sheets of clingfilm and then realized both sheets of clingfilm started to tear.

Then I remembered parchment paper existed and figured that would be a comparable solution.

I put one sheet of parchment down, put the partially rolled out dough on that, and topped it with another sheet of parchment.

Then I rolled it. Or rather, I pushed it around the counter because parchment doesn’t stick to a countertop like clingfilm does.

So then I tried taping down the corners. And the tape came up when I tried rolling it.

Then I held the parchment with one hand and pushed down on the rolling pin with the other hand.

Eventually I got it! Though it was a struggle.

I chilled it again before pricking the bottom with a fork, topping it with more parchment and baking beads, and popping it in the oven.

Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood told me to bake it for about 12 minutes until the pastry was “just set and firm.”

I baked it for 12 minutes and tried lifting the parchment only to see that the dough was coming up with it. So I baked it a little longer.

Then I very carefully removed the beads and parchment and removed the top layer of pastry crust.

Then I baked it for longer.

Mary and Paul said an additional 5-7 minutes “until the pastry is thoroughly cooked and crisp” but every time I poked it, it felt soft.

So I kept baking.

And would poke.

And bake longer.

And so on.

Eventually I thought it must be done and I didn’t want to burn it (because you can’t really tell if chocolate pastry is burnt) so I pulled it out of the oven.

A few minutes later I touched the starting-to-cool crust and realized it was hard as a rock.

Oops.

Hopefully the filling would soften it up.

The filling also required the food processor, so I cleaned the bowl and blade and lid and dried it and put in the chocolate bars and malted drink powder.

Now this recipe calls for 200 grams of milk chocolate and 100 grams of dark chocolate, but I much prefer dark to milk and wanted to enjoy this tart, so I selfishly switched it to 200 grams of dark and 100 grams of milk.

With the chocolate mostly broken up in the food processor (the chunks were still quite large), I heated up the heavy cream.

Then, as directed, I ran the machine and slowly poured the hot cream into the feed tube.

I ran the machine a little longer to ensure all those big chunks were melted and then I poured it into the crispy tart shell.

My oh my, it looked delicious.

I licked the food processor bowl (not blade) clean and popped this into the fridge to set overnight.

*the next day*

The next morning, I measured out the whipping cream and malt powder and whipped it up to take to work with me.

At work, I pulled out the tart, cover it with the malted whipped cream and handed out slices.

Only a few people knew of malt powder and had childhood associations with it. One liked it in spite of the malt (her memories were not keen ones) and the other liked it because of the malt (his nostalgia was greater).

I found it an interesting flavour, and I will always love chocolate, and it was creamy and delicious, but I’d be fine with this recipe malt-free and maybe orange zest instead of malt? That would be yummy. Or some other add-in.

I may have to remake this one with a few more experimental tweaks.

Overall though a pretty simple recipe (thank you, food processor cheats) and a crowd-pleasing result!

One Comment Add yours

  1. excuse YOU I actually WAS dying to read this

    Liked by 1 person

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