Ómós Digest #64: Sweet Potato Tarte Tatin.
Anything but tart - sweet, salty and umami all at once.
Anything but tart
I’ve been excited to tell you about this sweet potato tarte tatin. It was the penultimate dish of our collaboration dinner with Note restaurant last week and for most, it proved to be the dish of the night.
While potatoes are a member of the nightshade family (like aubergine and tomatoes), sweet potatoes come from the Morning Glory family. That said, both are tubers and have similar cooking preparations. I must admit, I don't care too much for the sweet potato - give me a gloriously floury spud instead. However, when introduced to alarming amounts of sugar, butter and pastry, this tuber comes into its own.
Despite keeping menu descriptions limited at Note - in this case, restricting it to ‘Sweet Potato Tarte Tatin’ - it’s fair to say that diners were surprised with what appeared in front of them. Next to the glazed tart sat a ‘blob’ of clotted cream with a blackberry-esque ‘blob’ poised on top - this turned out to be Belgian caviar. As if it wasn’t confusing enough to be served sweet potato in the form of a tart after your main course, to now find yourself eating caviar, quite frankly, screwed with people. Bear with me though. Although caviar comes from the sturgeon fish, that doesn’t mean it had a ‘fishy’ taste. Instead the caviar brought an ocean flavour that was umami, salty and rich all at once. Served chilled, it acted as a great contrast to the warm koji beurre blanc and the perfect foil to the bitter, caramelised sweet potato.
The idea came about a couple of years ago, when I heard that McNally’s Farm in north county Dublin had a couple of sneaky rows of sweet potatoes growing. Jenny McNally who I unconditionally adore, is the kind of grower, who’s respect you must earn. It never feels like she actually requires the sale, and for any bounty I do manage to come away with, I’m always left feeling gracious if not slightly relieved. And so, when the season changes, and new produce is forthcoming (in this case the sweet potato season) I nervously approach Jenny, my left field requests, commonly met with a disapproving glare. Of course, this is all play, and although she might not openly admit it, I know Jenny has a soft spot for those who peruse through the season’s horticultural guide. I know she admires those (like me) with absurd requests for say herbs nobody else requires. How do I know this? Because if she didn’t, she wouldn’t grow an orange tuber secretly in the wet soils of north county Dublin.
I had no idea that sweet potatoes could be cultivated in Ireland (perhaps this is a first in itself), but like the humble potato that’s synonymous with Ireland, they too originate from Central and South America. Upon testing a batch of McNally’s secret stash, I must admit for the most part, they tasted pretty similar to the imported varieties. I don’t know what I was expecting, but there wasn't any noticeable difference. I guess this makes sense since tubers have an ability to be stored for months on end, explaining their commercial global success. Despite this, I felt compelled to trial this very foreign, now home-grown vegetable, and somehow sensed that it might behave similar to an apple, even though it contains significantly less water - in this case, perhaps a good thing. We tried baking, barbecuing and roasting it before serving it alongside ice cream paired with a very Anna Higham-style piece of puff pastry. Alas, what proved the best was in tart form, where the sweet potato halves were nestled shoulder to shoulder in small pans and topped with puff pastry, just as you would a tarte tatin. The potato shrivels during cooking, becoming soft while holding its shape and the pastry puffs with those edges tucked down the sides of the pan, becoming satisfyingly caramelised.
Below I've added the recipe in its entirety for those interested. If you don’t want to go to the trouble of making your own koji beurre blanc, I entirely understand and a traditional creme anglaise will do just fine, served with some clotted cream. Of course, if you feel like splurging, add a spoon of caviar too.
