I was fully prepared to skip Thanksgiving this year. I’d phoned in my regretful absence to all invitations with the hopes of spending my Thanksgiving alone. I’ve been really enjoying the quiet of my home and wanted to let that particular gratitude sink. I’m grateful for my able body, my safe space that is home, and my own growth and newfound comfort in being myself all on my own. Plus, I hate being told what to make or how to do it. Cereal sounded just fine. The ol’ turkey day classics seemed wholly unappetizing to me this year.

And then it happened.

You’ll be shocked to know that we sample many, many things at Caputo’s meetings. Once your surprise subsides, carry on reading. At one such meeting yesterday while discussing the many things I love to make with honey in this particular season, my fennel pollen and honey glazed carrots came up. Yelena’s face lit up, Matt made a weird grunty noise, and just like that, I was planning a Thanksgiving meal, all for me. These are the carrots that put me back in the mood to celebrate, even if it’s a party of one. A turkey is simply out of the question when cooking for one, but the rest of what I’m making is easily scaled down for one eater, plus leftovers, of course. Cranberries, stuffing, carrots, root veg gratin, and the smallest chicken I can find are on the menu this year, followed by a tarte tatin that will likely be brought to work the next week.

So here you have it, the carrots that inspired a real Thanksgiving. When I’m long gone from this world, I hope my family and friends continue to enjoy this dish for generations to come. They’re one of my favorite recipes, and, this year, they saved me.

Fennel Pollen and Honey Glazed Carrots
Serves 4 as a side

• 30 petite carrots or 16-20 medium carrots, peeled and cut to a uniform(ish) size
• 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1-2 large spoonfuls honey
• Salt and pepper, to taste
• 1 teaspoon fennel pollen

Heat a large stainless steel skillet and melt butter over medium heat. Add carrots in one even layer, and raise heat to just to medium high. Turn carrots a few times over the course of about 15-20 minutes so all sides are browned and carrots are tender, but still slightly crisp in the center. Drizzle a spoonful of honey over the carrots, toss, and keep on the heat for another 1-2 minutes. Add salt to taste and finish with the sprinkling of ¾ of the fennel pollen. Toss once more and transfer to a serving dish and finish with the remaining fennel pollen, and maybe some flaky salt, before serving.

Spain is underrated. Spanish food is even more underrated than Spain itself. The Land of Cervantes is similar to Italy as far as culinary ethos goes. Simple, high quality ingredients are key for simple, delicious recipes. It’s a wonderful ethos to live by and makes cooking and home entertaining a breeze.

Meet the Basque Piparra. This long, slender pepper looks very similar to a green beans and is native to the Basque region of Spain. It’s traditionally quite sweet and unassuming when fresh, but these little peppers are almost always preserved in an acidic brine and stored away to use for tapas and pintxos year round. You’ll see these most often in a pintxo called a Gilda, a toothpick speared through an olive, a Basque piparra, and a white anchovy (aka boquerones), then sometimes repeated on the same toothpick. It’s a briny, salty snack that does exactly what every bartender wants… for you to keep drinking. I love serving these at parties. Minimal effort and no heat application are the way to go when you’re expecting company, nothing can really go wrong.

Want to enjoy your Basque Piparras in more than one way? Their acidic, briny flavor is the perfect matched for smoked fish dishes and tinned seafood. Try dicing them up and mixing into an aioli for sandwiches or spearing into your next Bloody Mary. They’re even mild enough to adorn your next cheese board. The only danger of popping open an jar is closing it up again after your first pepper. This little taste of the Basque region is quite addictive, you’ll be ready for a siesta in no time.

Greek Week is in full swing across all locations, but we hope this week of festivities leaves the lasting flavors of Greece with you long after Greek Week ends. Take Mary Caputo’s very own recipes  to your kitchen and share a taste of Greece with the ones you love most.

Don’t feel like cooking? We’ll have samples of both Mary’s spanakopita and melomakarona at our locations throughout the week.

Happy Greek Week!

Greek Week is in full swing across all locations, but we hope this week of festivities leaves the lasting flavors of Greece with you long after Greek Week ends. Take Mary Caputo’s very own recipes  to your kitchen and share a taste of Greece with the ones you love most.

Don’t feel like cooking? We’ll have samples of both Mary’s spanakopita and melomakarona at our locations throughout the week.

Happy Greek Week!

Confession: I threw a tantrum yesterday. A foot-stomping, fuming, then whining, good ol’ fashioned tantrum. I was not hungry, nor was I tired. I was simply HOT. There is no cute word to describe hot-angry like the newly coined ‘hangry’, but I experience this feeling from July to mid-August annually. I am more than grateful for any air conditioning I encounter and am halfway through the apology texts needing to be sent for the previous day’s episode.

You know what sounds like a prime situation for another hot-angry tantrum? Baking. A. Pie. And you’ll never guess what I’d been dreading since June. Pioneer (aka Pie and Beer) Day. I love spending this day with my favorite Utah pals, but I detest the thought of heating up an oven, keeping it piping hot, and laboring for hours for even the most decadent of pies.

So this year, I’m making a pie–but not really pie–thing. It’ll feel like a pie, smell like a pie, kids might even be fooled into calling it a pie. But alas, it’s a tart in pie’s clothing. A simple tart dough baked for less 40 minutes gets filled with a sweet, tart citrus curd and topped with fresh fruit. It’ll satisfy the want for pie without the hours of cutting fruit, mixing then chilling crusts, par-baking, then baking, then cooling (and adding more darn heat to your home). This is another ‘take the reins’ type of recipe, too. I’m using lime and berries, but you can substitute any other citrus (or any acidic fruit juice) to make your curd and top it with whatever your heart desires.

I am pleased. I am cool. I am zen. I am full of lime curd tart, and I will not throw a pie- and heat-induced tantrum this Pioneer Day.

Lime Curd Tart (cough, pie, cough)
Serves 8-10

Tart Dough

• 1¼ cups all-purpose flour
• ¼ cup granulated sugar
• ¼ teaspoon salt
• ½ cup cold butter, cubed
• 1 large egg
• 2 dashes lime bitters (vanilla extract will work just fine, too!)

Lime Curd

• 3 large eggs, or 1 large egg plus 3 large egg yolks
• Zest of 2 limes
• 1/2 cup lime juice, about 5 limes
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into chunks
• 1/4 teaspoon salt

Mix flour, sugar, and salt with a pastry blender or two forks. Add cubed butter and mix until mixture becomes crumbly and resembles coarse meal. Add egg and bitters and keep mixing until the dough is no longer dry and starts to clump together, adding cold water if needed. Turn dough to a lightly floured surface and form into a ball. It should come together easily without being sticky. Flatten ball slightly with your hands to form a thick disc. Either wrap with plastic wrap and refrigerate for up to 3 days or roll out the dough.

On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough out into an 12-inch circle, then place gently into a 9-inch tart pan. Trim edges and freeze for about 30 minutes (prevents shrinkage!). Preheat oven to 375F and place rack in the center. Bake crust for 30 minutes until golden brown and dry. Transfer to a wire rack and let cool completely.

While the tart dough is baking, you can prepare your lime curd.

Whisk the eggs (or egg and yolks) in a small nonreactive saucepan to blend. Whisk in the lemon zest, juice, sugar, salt, and butter. Continue whisking over medium heat until the butter is melted and the mixture is thickened and beginning to simmer around the edges. Take care not to boil the mixture as it will cause the eggs to curdle. Remove from the heat and scrape into the strainer, pressing gently on the solids and scraping the bottom to release large bits. Refrigerate until chilled before using, for up to one week.

To assemble, remove tart from pan and set on a wooden board or plate. Scoop curd into the tart shell and smooth to the edges. Top with fresh fruit, whipped cream, or creme fraiche.

USA’s 242nd birthday falls right in the middle of the week. Some of you will have a few days off, some will have just the holiday. Either way, you should be spending time enjoying your company, not sweating in the kitchen or over your grill for hours on end. We’ve created an easy, 4th worthy menu that’s perfect for carrying from your kitchen to your outdoor table or packing along with you to your favorite firework viewing spot. Make your salad and condiment options a few days in advance for the smoothest, most delicious 4th yet. This year, we’re outsourcing for dessert. We have plenty of ideas to help create a tasty treat of your own, but we have the ice cream queen herself right here in SLC. If you don’t know Alexa Norlin and Normal Ice Cream, get thee to their truck asap, it’s parked right inside Trolley Square on the east side (or you can buy here treats at our Downtown and 15th locations, too!).

Fourth of July Menu

• Grilled Olympia Provisions sausages and sauerkraut with caramelized onions
• Pok Pok and pancetta potato salad
• Watermelon and Feta salad with mint and Viola olive oil
• Normal Ice Cream’s choco-tacos

Pok Pok & Pancetta Potato Salad
Serves 6 as a side dish

• 2 pounds red potatoes, diced
• 1/2 pound pancetta, diced
• 1 yellow onion, diced
• ¼ cup Pok Pok honey vinegar
• ¼ cup olive oil
• 1 tablespoon whole grain mustard
• salt & pepper, to taste
• chives, chopped, for garnish

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Add in diced potatoes and boil until tender, about 10 to 12 minutes. Drain potatoes and place in a large mixing bowl.
While the potatoes are boiling, add pancetta to a cold large skillet. Heat over medium heat and cook until crisp, about 6-8 minutes. Remove pancetta with a slotted spoon, leaving the fat behind.

Add onion to same skillet and cook 5 minutes until onions are soft. Whisk in Pok Pok vinegar, olive oil, mustard, salt, and pepper until heated through, 1 to 2 minutes.
Pour sauce over cooked potatoes. Stir in pancetta and chives. Serve hot immediately, or chill overnight to serve cold. Make up to 3 days in advance.

Watermelon and Feta salad
Serves 8 as a side

• one medium watermelon
• 1/2 pound feta, crumbled
• 1 handful mint, leaves picked
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• condiment grade olive oil (we love Viola, always)

Trim the rind from the watermelon and cut into bite size cubes and chill (can be done up to 5 days in advance). When ready to serve, coarsely chop mint and toss with melon, feta, and salt. Drizzle with olive oil and serve chilled.

Caramelized Onions

• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 3 large sweet yellow onions, thinly sliced
• kosher salt

Heat one or two handfuls of your sliced onions and olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. As onions begin to soften, add another handful and stir. Repeat until all your onion is added. Continue to cook over medium heat until the onions reach a soft yellow gold. Reduce heat to medium low and cook for another 20-25 minutes until dark in color. If onions begin to stick or the bottom of your pan starts to burn, add a tablespoon or two of water. This will absorb the color and flavor and cook back into your onions. Once the onions have reached your desired color and flavor, stir in a pinch of salt. Use immediately or store for up to two weeks.

When it comes to eating seasonally here are ingredients, smells, and combinations of flavors the represent the very best of each season. Spring happens to be my favorite. The green re-awakening and promise of sunny days ahead as expressed by the first harvests are unlike anything else. My favorite? Peas, mint, and ricotta minlged together for a naturally sweet, aromatic, and creamy combination that leads you gently into the bounty of summer.

Bon Appetit did the world a favor with this recipe. I will keep it brothy when I want something comforting for rainy evenings or remove the broth for another use and chill the fregola and friends into a cold salad as a side for evenings on the patio. I’ll be serving the chilled version along side all the grilled things for Father’s Day this year. It’s filling, yet fresh, and Dad deserves nothing less.

Since this recipe relies on very few ingredients, use the very best and freshest goodies you can gather. Creminelli’s pancetta crisps perfectly for a tiny bit of crunch and a healthy drizzle of Viola makes this feel extra bright and luxurious.

Bon Appetit‘s Fregola with Green Peas, Mint, and Ricotta
Serves 4 as a main dish or 6-8 as a side

• 1¼ cups fregola sarda (substitute couscous if unavailable)
• Kosher salt
• 2 tablespoons olive oil, plus more for serving
• 2 ounces pancetta, chopped
• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 1 cup dry white wine
• 2½ cups low-sodium vegetable broth
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 1 cup shelled fresh peas (from about 1 pound pods) or frozen peas, thawed
• 2 tablespoons chopped fresh mint, plus leaves for serving
• 4 ounces ricotta

Cook fregola in a large pot of boiling salted water until very al dente, 6–8 minutes. Drain pasta (do not rinse), reserving 1 cup pasta cooking liquid.

Heat 2 Tbsp. oil in a large skillet over medium and cook bacon, stirring often, until bacon is brown around the edges, about 5 minutes. Add onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until bacon is crisp and onion is translucent, about 5 minutes.

Add wine, bring to a simmer, and cook until skillet is almost dry, about 5 minutes. Add broth and bring to a simmer. Add fregola and cook, stirring often, until pasta is just al dente and broth is thickened, about 5 minutes. Taste and season with salt and pepper. Add peas and chopped mint and cook, stirring, until peas are warmed through, about 2 minutes. Add pasta cooking liquid as needed to adjust consistency.

Serve topped with ricotta, mint, and cracked pepper and drizzled with condiment olive oil.

The theme this week is simplicity. Now, when applying this theme to Mother’s Day, I find it most useful to file this strata in the ‘make ahead’ folder. Anything I can make a day in advance is a no-brainer and as simple as it gets. I can be as messy, as slow, and a chill as I want. No one is there to see my kitchen dance moves or my favorite kitchen uniform – sweatpants. Now, fast forward to brunch. Mom will love this strata with all its vegetable healthyishness and lovely presentation. Making this the day before means you had time to shower and caffeinate in the morning before serving, it’s a real win/win brunch situation.

I love recipes like this because of how easy it is substitute and add ingredients. Can’t find rapini? Use another green. Don’t want to add prosciutto? Great, you’re the boss. Be your own strata spirit guide and follow your own path. Just keep these few tips in mind:

• Season as you go – Since this is finished in the oven, there’s no way to season to taste right before serving. Make sure your vegetables of choice and egg mixture are both seasoned before adding them to your baking dish.
• No raw, watery vegetables – I love a ripe tomato as much, or more, than the next person. Sadly, they don’t belong here if you’re just tossing them in willy nilly. Any and all vegetable matter should be roasted or sauteed in advance so you don’t end up with soupy strata. Mom wouldn’t like that.
• Don’t panic about browning the top – From a fellow home cook with a possibly possessed oven, don’t sweat it. If the top is browning unevenly, make nice with your broiler to even things out once your strata is set in the center. If you think things are moving too quickly, pop some foul over the top until you’re ready to end your strata’s relationship with your oven.

There you go. More simple. I think I’m getting the hang of this.

Rapini and Prosciutto Strata
Serves 8

• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1 pound rapini, coarsely chopped
• 1 clove garlic, smashed
• 1 loaf crusty bread, sliced
• 10 thin slices prosciutto
• 8 ounces goat cheese, crumbled (use chevre, feta, or any cheese of your choosing)
• 6 large eggs
• 2 cups whole milk
• 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
• Salt, to taste
• 2 tablespoons butter, melted

In a large saute pan, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add rapini and garlic and saute. Remove rapini to a bowl and set aside.

Grease the bottom of a baking dish with butter and line with 1 layer of bread, tearing some slices to fit. Arrange half of prosciutto evenly over bread. Sprinkle half of goat cheese over and sprinkle with half of the sauteed rapini. Top with second layer of bread. Layer remaining prosciutto, goat cheese, and rapini atop bread. Cut remaining bread into 1/4-inch cubes. Sprinkle over top.

Whisk eggs, milk, mustard, and salt in bowl. Season with pepper. Pour egg mixture over strata; press down on bread with spatula. Drizzle melted butter over strata. Cover and refrigerate overnight.

Preheat oven to 350°F. Uncover strata and let stand at room temperature 30 minutes. Bake until center is set, about 1 hour. Remove from oven. Preheat broiler. Place strata under broiler until top is golden, about 30 seconds. Cut into squares and serve.

What a week. I swear it was February when I went to sleep. Now I’ve woken up, and it’s May. Not only that – Mother’s Day is NEXT WEEK. Cue the panic, the frantic search for flower delivery services, and a general spike in my usual anxieties. After the initial feelings of mayhem subsided, I’ve turned over a new leaf in life. Spring is the time for new awakening, right? Here’s mine – make it simple. Here’s my backup – chill out.

Best way to simplify and chill? Semifreddo. It’s essentially a frozen treat akin to ice cream, but without the fancy gear and more wiggle room. If you’ve visited a Caputo’s store lately, you’ll have likely seen a display or two for Greek Mountain Tea. Matt and Yelena have been drinking it for months, and the rest of us are slowly catching on to their habit. Our Greek Mountain Tea is harvested from the the Taygetos mountains near Sparta. It’s herbaceous, minty, soothing, and doesn’t do that annoying over-steeping thing that I have a natural talent for. The list of health benefits is shockingly long and includes but, is not limited to the following:

• Antibacterial Characteristics
• Antifungal Characteristics
• Antimicrobial Characteristics
• Antioxidant Characteristics
• Analgesic (topical essential oil)
• Edema Care (inflammation-related)
• Fights Colds
• Helps Prevent/Cure Inflammation
• Immune System
• Improves Digestion
• Cholesterol Reducer
• Exceptionally high iron content

Now, leave it to me to take something healthy -and perfectly delicious already- and add cream to it. But that’s basically what’s happening here. Think Greek thyme honey sweetened milk tea in frozen dessert form. I’ll be serving this Mother’s Day weekend since I can prepare it in advance (up to 4 days). All that’s needed to serve is a quick few slices, a sweet drizzle of more honey, and a sprinkle of salt. See? Simple.

Greek Mountain Tea Semifreddo
Serves 4-6

• 1 1/2 cups heavy cream
• 1 handful Greek Mountain Tea, broken in half
• 2 tablespoons Greek thyme honey
• salt, to taste

In a medium saucepan, heat milk and tea on the lowest setting for 20 minutes, stirring occsaionally. In another small saucepan, heat honey in 1/3 cup water until honey has dissolved. Chill the honey syrup. Strain the milk into a bowl and squeeze the tea to release more liquid. Refrigerate until completely chilled. Your cream will not whip if it’s even 5 degrees too warm. Don’t put yourself through this torture. Cold cream = happy semifreddo.

Line a medium loaf tin with plastic film. Once the cream has completely cooled, whip the cream until it has thickened and doubled in volume. Fold in the honey syrup plus a pinch of salt and pour into the loaf tin. Wrap in plastic and freeze for at least 4 hours or overnight.

When ready to serve, invert the semifreddo onto a serving platter and drizzle with extra honey and finishing salt. Serve slices immediately-ish (I personally love when the outside has melted).

Orthodox Easter and Catholic Easter (I didn’t name it this, Google did) are about as close as they’ll ever be, which makes my life that much more full of the traditional fare for two whole weeks. The American classics are in full swing for the first week. Think lovely brunch spreads, hams, lamb, and bright spring vegetables here. Then the Greek fare kicks in for the second week, much of this due to the many, many Greeks in my life. Think American Easter, but tripled in size and with more dietary restrictions throughout the Easter season. Fasting, vegetarian, and pescatarian meals are all included at some point and I’m looking forward to sharing this salad for one such meal.

If you know me, you know I love fennel. You’ll find it tucked into any meal I’m involved in creating. It’s here, and I’m not sorry. Finely shaved fennel and soaked shallot play with the spiciness of arugula and brightness of boquerones in a delicious, complex way. A few capers and sherry  vinaigrette seal the deal with extra vibrancy. Serve on Palm Sunday, Good Friday, or whenever you feel like it.

A few notes on making this and any other salad especially delicious.

1. Season your greens – Wanna know why salads are especially delicious when you dine out at restaurants? Those lovely little lettuce bits get tossed with a sprinkle of salt before anything else touches them. Don’t salt them enough to make them salty, just enough to help coax out the flavor of your greens.
2. Soak your sliced onion (or shallot) – Do your onions have a little too much bite? Give them a soak in cold water for about ten minutes before using. The flavor will mellow and let the rest of your ingredients share the spotlight.

Easter Boquerones Salad
Serves 8

• 12 ounces arugula, washed and seasoned
• 1 fennel bulb, sliced
• 1 shallot, sliced
• 1 tablespoon salt preserved capers, soaked in water for 1 hour
• 24 Spanish white anchovies in vinegar or tinned sardines
• 1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
• 3 tablespoons sherry vinegar

Combine arugula, fennel, shallot, and capers in large bowl. Whisk sherry vinegar and oil, season to taste, and toss with salad. Arrange on a serving platter and top with  anchovies. Serve immediately with toasted baguette and more anchovies.

If spring had a cake, it would be carrot cake. At least in my world, that is. My whole being is ready to welcome spring. This last second winter is not working for me, so I’m pretending it’s really spring from the comfort of my own kitchen.

I grew up on carrot cakes that were just trying too hard. You know I mean? Have you ever had a carrot that was, just, extra? Too many nuts, an offensive amount of raisins, and piles of cream cheese frosting? Anyone? I now love carrot cake, but it sure took some time to finally come around to it. Now that I’m old enough to make my own decisions, any my own cake, I’m making it the way my childhood self would love it most. Minimal nuts, no raisins, and a smattering of frosting.

Parsnips have long been a love of mine. They have a more nutty, earthy taste and a spiced finish that makes me weak in the knees. I wanted to pair that earthier flavor with cardamom rather than the classic cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg combo, and boy am I glad I did. I’m so happy with the resulting flavor. This recipe is based on Bon Appetit’s best carrot cake recipe, but with my own riffs on the spices and a completely different frosting.

Frosting is a touchy subject for yours truly. Cream cheese frosting is often too heavily applied and buttercream is just straight up strange. That weird crusty thing that happens when it sits out? No. Thanks. Instead, creme fraiche and mascarpone are teaming up for a lighter, mellower finish.

I’ll be making this for Easter and for any other reason I can find to do so. The recipe is easy to make into cupcakes and without frosting, it could be argued as, dare I say, healthy-ish.

Parsnip Cardamom Cake

Recipe adapted from BA’s Best Carrot Cake
Serves 12

Cake

• Vegetable oil
• 1 cup chopped walnuts
• 1 pound parsnips, peeled, coarsely grated
• 1 cup buttermilk, room temperature
• 3 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 teaspoons ground cardamom
• 2 teaspoons ground ginger
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1½ teaspoons kosher salt
• ¾ teaspoon baking soda
• 4 large eggs, room temperature
• 1 cup granulated sugar
• ¾ cup dark brown sugar
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 teaspoon Addition cardamom tincture
• ¾ cup vegetable oil

Frosting

• 8 ounces creme fraiche
• 16 ounces masarpone
• 1 1/2 cups powdered sugar
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 teaspoon Addition cardamom tincture
• Kosher salt

Preheat oven to 350°. Lightly coat two 9″-diameter cake pans with vegetable oil. Line bottoms with parchment paper rounds; lightly coat rounds with nonstick spray.

Using an electric mixer on high speed, beat creme fraiche and mascarpone in a medium bowl until smooth, about 1 minute. Beat in vanilla extract, tincture, and salt. Reduce speed to low and gradually mix in powdered sugar. Increase speed to high and beat frosting until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes.

Place 1 cake, domed side down, on a platter. Spread 1/2 cup frosting evenly over top. Place remaining cake, domed side down, on top. Spread top and sides with 1 cup frosting and chill 30 minutes to let frosting set. Spread remaining frosting over top and sides, swirling decoratively.

Like all social media these days, food blogging is a flurry of gorgeous, drool-worthy photos and the most precise instructions. Things appear perfect from the onset and the string of photos prove that each blogger is the Mary Poppins of their own kitchen kingdoms. I am no such Mary Poppins. Rather, I’m practically imperfect in every way. My recipes often fail before I find success, and I can’t help but relate to the rest of life.

For me, recipes are like relationships. Some take a long time to develop and stay with you forever. Some last a season and a forgotten by next spring. A few might be dreadful from the start, but we press on anyways, only to abandon it forever in a fit of rage and tears. But we all keep trying, testing, and tasting. The promise of a future success is enough to will us forward, knife in hand. This little fennel tatin took more work that I’d anticipated, but in the end, I made something I loved.

I’ve been wanting to create a fennel tarte tatin of my own for a few weeks by the time I’d set out on my first voyage, so I thought I’d have a pretty fool-proof first go of it. Wrong. So, so wrong. I’d burned the fennel to a miserable crisp in an effort to bake my pate brisee to golden perfection. I’d also thrown in a few generous spoonfuls of chevre on top of the fennel before capping my pan with pastry, and even that was dismal, at best. After a week of coming to terms with my sad first attempt and a lovely, quick discussion of cheese choices with our affineuse, Antonia, I was back on track and ready to try again. A handful of edits and substitutions later, I’d made something worth sharing. I’d gathered wisdom from the recipes of friends and experts (in this case, my friend- and expert- Vanessa, and other expert, Yotam Ottolenghi). Blanched fennel bulbs, buttered caramel, and puff pastry made it possible, and Antonia added the final touch with Nocetto di Capra.

It may have taken a village, but this is one I’m glad I saw through to the end. Share this with your real-life loved ones morning or night, they’ll be glad you saw this tarte to the end, too.

Fennel Tarte Tatin with Nocetto di Capra
Serves 4-6

• 4 medium fennel bulbs, base and stalks trimmed
• Kosher salt
• 3 tablespoons butter
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 8 ounces Nocetto di Capra cheese*
• 1 sheet (at least 10 oz) puff pastry

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees and bring a large pan of water to a boil. Season the water with salt, add whole fennel bulbs, and return to a boil. Cook for five minutes, then drain. Cut each bulb in half lengthwise, and each half into 4 wedges, similar to apples.

Add butter to a 10-in cast iron pan and warm to medium high heat. Once butter is melted, sprinkle the sugar evenly over the base. Arrange fennel wedges in a fancy (or un-fancy) manner in the pan. Leave to bubble away until the juices thicken and begin to turn to a deep brown caramel.

While the fennel is caramelizing, cut Nocetto into slices, you should have about 8, and roll out puff pastry to about 1/4 inch thick. Cut out a circle of pastry just larger than the pan and set aside.

Once the fennel juices are caramelized, lay the slices of Nocetto over the wedges and lay the puff pastry over the cheese and fennel. Tucks the edges into the pan and pierce the pastry with a fork a few times. Bake for 30 minutes more or until the pastry is golden brown. Remove from the oven, and carefully invert the tart on to a clean plate. I find it easiest top the pan with the plate and hold them together with a kitchen towel while inverting. Serve warm. If reserving for another day, allow to cool on the counter for 20 minutes before refrigerating. To reheat, warm in a 300 degree oven for 5 minutes.

*If Nocetto is unavailable, substitute another bloomy rind cheese like brie, Harbison, or Casatica di Bufala