This is one of my earliest baking memories, and I can still picture it so clearly. My grandma would collect fresh milk straight from the farm – the cows were being milked just a few steps away – then boil it and leave it to cool. A thick layer of cream would form on top, which she’d carefully gather and mix with flour and a little sugar to make the most delicious pastry I’ve ever tasted. She would roll it out to fit her well-used, serrated tart tin and turn it into the apple tart we all loved so much.
This tart was a real winter favourite. My grandad used to make his own cider and Calvados, so we always had plenty of apples. There was usually a crate stored in the cellar, which we worked through slowly during autumn and winter – apples keep so well in a cool space. Eating it still feels like pure childhood comfort. Warm baked apples are one of my favourite winter flavours, and nothing beats that smell coming out of the oven.
Over time, I’ve allowed myself to adapt the recipe. Sometimes I mix the apple compote with plums, or add a little cinnamon, or even replace the compote with a jam of my choice. I included the recipe in my second cookbook, Chez Manon, with Mamie Suzanne proudly sitting next to it. Having that moment printed forever feels very special.