The Sunday Slice #3: My favourite frangipane mince pie recipe
The ONLY mince pie recipe you need this Christmas, and a voice memo from me
Hello my friends and welcome back to A Lot On Her Plate on this December Sunday. I’m going to keep this one brief, because this is such a busy time of year and I think that you probably just want to get to the recipe. Maybe you’re making your mince pies this weekend, maybe you’re not, but if indeed you are, or could be convinced to, I want to make the case for baking these delectable little mince and almond frangipane pies that completely transformed my relationship with mince pies. Yes, I’ve made a bold claim in the subject of this newsletter, but this is based on my own experience. Since I discovered them many years ago (thank you to baker Richard Bertinet for the original idea) I’ve made no other version of a mince pie, which I tend to find a bit too heavy on the pastry and overwhelming with mincemeat for my liking.
These beauties use the shortest, butteriest, lemon zest scented shortcrust pastry kissed with mincemeat - unapologetically shop bought because: motherhood - and topped with a fluffy, almondy frangipane and flaked almonds that toast to perfection in the oven. I like to serve them warmed, with clotted or pouring cream as a failsafe festive dessert, but they’re also perfect for elevenses, with tea or coffee or even for breakfast. I made them on Friday, and have been enjoying them as above, while doing things to get the house in order for Christmas: sorting through the endless piles of baby clothes that no longer fit, sourcing a Christmas tree that doesn’t look like a malnourished supermodel (for some reason all our local trees this year looked like they’d been on a diet) and drying out slices of satsuma in the oven to go on my wreath. It’s likely I won’t get around to decorating my wreath until Christmas ever because I still have to buy things like ribbon and cinnamon sticks and pine cones, but the satsuma slices were very easy, I just sliced them up super thin, spread them out on a baking sheet lined with baking paper and baked them at 70 degrees celsius (fan) for a couple of hours. It made the kitchen smell good.
They are so delicious, and rather more dainty than your average mince pie, and everyone I ever give one to asks for the recipe, so I really am so excited to be sharing my version - honed over many years, with you here. While they might sound rather elaborate, trust me when I say they’re a snip to pull off too, you can whip up the pastry in no time and the frangipane can be creamed together simply in a big bowl so no need to dirty stand mixers or suchlike. Just make sure your butter is properly soft, whatever you do.
If you, or anyone you know is a mince pie skeptic, I’m convinced these will turn you, and don’t they just look so darling, piled up on a plate? My biggest tip is to go ahead and bake a double batch and freeze half of them for later, you will get through them, I promise. I realised it’s been far too long since I left you a voice memo, and I wanted to say ‘hi’ in person, but apologies if I sound a bit croaky, we are basically endlessly ill atm. If you can bear it, you can listen below.