Coffee Tart

"Before I was born, the family called Olha Franko simply Baba — with a capital B, no less. From my mother (Ivanna Milianchuk) and from Baba Vira (Franko), you would often hear: 'We must call Baba, visit her, bring her something, ask her.' The family of her son-in-law — my grandfather (the Sitnitskys) — held her in great esteem. So in the word 'Baba' I never heard anything disrespectful, only reverence for the eldest in the family. With my arrival into the world, Olha Franko became Baba-PraBaba — that is what I called her. As her eldest great-granddaughter, I was named Olha in her honour. I remember her already in her later years. She did not like commotion or noise. When too many people crowded into her kitchen — where she reigned as Mistress — she would quietly slip upstairs to her room on the second floor. In summer, you could find Baba-PraBaba on the balcony, sitting lost in thought, gazing at the apple tree whose branches curved over the railing. A board resting on the balustrade served as her bench. I think she was often lonely. When we went into the garden to pick currants, gooseberries or apples, Miki would come running — a beautiful Scottish collie, PraBaba's favourite. It seemed she could sense her mistress's mood: she knew when to dash around joyfully, and when to lay her head quietly on her knees and listen to her thoughts. I was brought to Baba-PraBaba when I didn't want to go to kindergarten. She always had something sweet ready for tea — little honey cakes with nuts, or small dry biscuits (what we now call biscotti), or tsvibach (a dried twice-baked bread, the modern equivalent of a rusk). She would sit me on her lap. Even when I was fourteen she would say, 'Come, sit.' I laughed and said I was already too big. PraBaba didn't say much, but she asked about everything and everyone. She listened and nodded. She wore glasses with very thick lenses, and it seemed to me that through those glasses she could see right through people and knew everything about them. Even now, walking along Zaporizka Street, my eyes search for Baba-PraBaba on the balcony or in the garden near the currant bushes, and every Scottish collie should answer to the name Miki, and those little dry biscuits still taste of my childhood."

Olya Chukwinska

The recipe for the little biscuits Olya mentions is right here: /recipes/suharyky-biskvity/

And today, in honour of Olha Franko's birthday, a truly delicious, light and fragrant Coffee Tart!

25 cm tart tin

Pastry

1. 220 g flour
2. 130 g cold butter
3. 50 g icing sugar
4. 1 egg yolk
5. 2 tbsp cold water
6. Bring all the ingredients together into a dough, then refrigerate for 20 minutes.
7. Roll out and press into the tart tin, forming an even shell.
8. Bake at 180° for 20 minutes.

Cream filling

1. 10 egg yolks
2. 200 g sugar
3. 300 ml strong brewed coffee, hot
4. 75 g cornstarch
5. 3 egg whites
6. Beat the egg yolks with the sugar until pale and fluffy, then mix in the cornstarch.
7. Pour in the hot coffee little by little, stirring briskly the whole time.
8. Cook over a low heat, stirring, until the cream thickens.
9. Once cooled, fold in the stiffly beaten egg whites.
10. Pour the filling into the pre-baked pastry shell.
11. Bake at 180° for a further 30 minutes.
12. Remove from the tin only once fully cooled.