Tarte Tatin — The Sweetest of Accidents

There are few sounds more comforting than apples sizzling in butter and sugar. It’s a scent that clings to your clothes, your memory, your idea of home — especially if home is somewhere near Lamotte-Beuvron, where two sisters once forgot the pastry and created a masterpiece by mistake.

 

Tarte Tatin, as it came to be called, is not a show-off dessert. It’s not piped or puffed or sprinkled with edible gold. It is humble, heavy with fruit, kissed by caramel, and at its best when eaten slightly warm with a spoonful of thick crème fraîche melting on top.

 

I remember the first time I made one. I was staying in a crumbling stone farmhouse in the Sologne forest, with an oven that whistled and a skillet older than I was. I used too many apples, burned the caramel slightly, and turned it out crooked — but my god, the taste. Golden, sticky, fragrant with cinnamon and cider, and gone within minutes.

 

Here’s how to make it — just as the Tatin sisters might have done.

 

Ingredients (serves 6–8):

 

• 6–8 firm apples (Golden Delicious, Braeburn, or Reine des Reinettes)
• 100g (½ cup) unsalted butter
• 150g (¾ cup) granulated sugar
• 1 tsp vanilla extract or seeds of ½ vanilla pod
• 1 pinch of sea salt
• Optional: splash of Calvados or apple cider
• 1 sheet of puff pastry (all-butter, please)
• Crème fraîche or vanilla ice cream, to serve

 

Instructions:

Preheat your oven to 190°C (375°F).

 

Peel, core and halve the apples. You want chunky pieces, not slices — this tart is unapologetically rustic.

 

In an ovenproof skillet or a heavy tart pan (24cm/9½ inches), melt the butter over medium heat. Add the sugar and stir gently until it begins to caramelise — a deep amber colour is perfect. Add the vanilla, a whisper of sea salt, and a dash of Calvados if you fancy.

 

Now, nestle the apple halves into the caramel, cut side up. Pack them in tightly — they’ll shrink and soften. Let them cook in the caramel for about 10–15 minutes, until they begin to soften but still hold shape.

 

Roll out your puff pastry just a bit larger than your pan. Drape it over the apples, tucking the edges down around the fruit like a cosy blanket. Prick the pastry with a fork to let steam escape.

 

Bake for 30–35 minutes, until the pastry is puffed and golden.

 

Here comes the magic part: let the tart cool for 10 minutes (not longer!), then place a large plate over the pan and, with a steady prayer, flip it over in one motion. Caramel may spill — let it.

 

Serve warm, with a dollop of crème fraîche or a scoop of good vanilla ice cream. And if you eat the whole thing in one afternoon, I’ll never tell.

 

Wine Pairing

Go for a chilled glass of Cidre Brut from Normandy, or a late harvest Monbazillac — something golden, gently sweet, and with enough backbone to stand up to the buttery caramel. If it’s Sunday lunch, a splash of Calvados alongside won’t hurt either.

 

And if you’re ever in the Sologne in September, the apples are so ripe they fall into your hands. That’s where this tart truly begins — not in the oven, but in the orchard, under a sky that smells like harvest.