Classic British Bakewell Tart Recipe | Almond & Raspberry
Bakewell Tart Recipe – I should probably start by confessing that I once tried to make a Bakewell tart for a dinner party where I was desperately trying to appear sophisticated.
Bakewell Tart
Ingredients
- 175g/6oz plain flour
- 75g/2½oz chilled butter
- 2-3 tbsp cold water
- 1 tbsp raspberry jam
- 125g/4½oz butter
- 125g/4½oz caster sugar
- 125g/4½oz ground almonds
- 1 free-range egg, beaten
- ½ tsp almond extract
- 50g/1¾oz flaked almonds
Instructions
- To make the pastry, measure the flour into a bowl and rub in the butter with your fingertips until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs. Add the water, mixing to form a soft dough.
- Roll out the dough on a lightly floured work surface and use to line a 20cm/8in flan tin. Leave in the fridge to chill for 30 minutes.
- Preheat the oven to 200C/400F/Gas 6 (180C fan). Line the pastry case with foil and fill with baking beans. Bake blind for about 15 minutes, then remove the beans and foil and cook for a further five minutes to dry out the base.
- For the filing, spread the base of the flan generously with raspberry jam.
- Melt the butter in a pan, take off the heat and then stir in the sugar. Add ground almonds, egg and almond extract. Pour into the flan tin and sprinkle over the flaked almonds.
- Bake for about 35 minutes. If the almonds seem to be browning too quickly, cover the tart loosely with foil to prevent them burning.
Nutrition
I ended up with what can only be described as raspberry soup in a half-baked crust, which my guests politely pretended was some kind of “deconstructed” dessert concept. We’ve come a long way since then, folks.
The Bakewell tart and I have had a complicated relationship over the years, but I’m pleased to report that we’ve finally reached an understanding.
There’s something so wonderfully unfussy about this classic British dessert that continues to win me over – the buttery crust, the layer of jammy sweetness, and that gloriously nutty frangipane filling that puffs up beautifully in the oven. It’s the kind of thing I want to eat while curled up with a book, preferably during a rainstorm, with exactly zero concern about whether my kitchen looks like it’s been hit by a flour bomb (which it always does).
A Little Bakewell History
Before we dive into butter and flour, let’s talk about where this delightful tart comes from. The Bakewell tart originated in the picturesque town of Bakewell in Derbyshire, England.
Legend has it that it was created by accident in the 19th century when a cook at a local inn misunderstood instructions and spread jam on the pastry base before adding the almond filling rather than mixing it in.
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This happy accident became a British classic, one that my British grandmother would make whenever we visited. Hers always had a perfect shortcrust – the kind that made me believe I’d never achieve such pastry greatness because surely one needed decades of experience and possibly some sort of pastry magic that skipped a generation in my case.
But here we are. I’ve made this recipe approximately 17 times now (not an exaggeration), and I’ve discovered that the secret isn’t magic – it’s just paying attention to the details while simultaneously being willing to forgive yourself for the inevitable pastry cracks.
The Shortcrust Pastry Battle
Let’s start with the pastry – the foundation of our tart and often the source of mild kitchen anxiety. I know that for many of us, making pastry from scratch feels like inviting disaster into your kitchen, but I promise this one is forgiving.
Ingredients for the Pastry
- 175g (6oz) plain flour
- 75g (2½oz) chilled butter, cubed
- 2-3 tablespoons cold water
The key here is keeping everything COLD. I’ve been known to panic and throw my flour into the freezer for five minutes before starting because my kitchen runs approximately the temperature of the surface of the sun. If your hands run warm like mine, try running them under cold water before handling the dough.
Measure your flour into a large bowl and add your chilled butter cubes. Now comes the part where you need to channel your inner grandmother – rub the butter into the flour with your fingertips until the mixture looks like fine breadcrumbs.
Yes, you could use a food processor, but there’s something therapeutic about doing this by hand, especially when you’re still in your pajamas at 11 AM on a Sunday (not that I’m speaking from experience).
Once you’ve got your breadcrumb-like mixture, add the cold water a tablespoon at a time, using a knife to stir it in. You’re looking for a soft dough that comes together but isn’t sticky.
Sometimes I need all 3 tablespoons, sometimes just 2 – it depends on the flour, the humidity, the alignment of the planets, and whether Mercury is in retrograde.
Roll out your dough on a lightly floured surface and use it to line a 20cm (8-inch) flan tin. Don’t worry if it tears a bit – just patch it together with your fingers.
We’re going for homemade charm here, not pastry perfection. Pop it in the fridge for 30 minutes to chill while you contemplate the rest of your life choices.
The Blind Bake (No, Not That Kind of Blind)
Preheat your oven to 200°C (400°F) or 180°C fan.
Blind baking is just a fancy term for pre-baking your pastry shell before adding the filling. Line your chilled pastry case with foil or parchment paper and fill it with baking beans.
Don’t have baking beans? I’ve used rice, dried beans, and even pasta in desperate times. The goal is just to weigh down the pastry so it doesn’t puff up like a balloon.
Bake for about 15 minutes, then remove the beans and foil and bake for another 5 minutes to dry out the base. We’re aiming for a slightly blonde, partially baked crust that won’t go soggy once we add our fillings.
If you’re anything like me, this is the point where you’ll hover anxiously by the oven, peering through the glass and muttering encouraging words to your pastry.
The Filling – Where the Magic Happens
Now for the fun part – transforming simple ingredients into something that will make people think you’re far more accomplished in the kitchen than you actually are.
Ingredients for the Filling
- 1 tablespoon raspberry jam (the best quality you can afford)
- 125g (4½oz) butter
- 125g (4½oz) caster sugar
- 125g (4½oz) ground almonds
- 1 free-range egg, beaten
- ½ teaspoon almond extract
- 50g (1¾oz) flaked almonds
First, spread a generous layer of raspberry jam over the base of your partially baked tart shell. When I say generous, I mean it – don’t be shy here. The jam layer is what gives this tart its distinctive sweet-tart flavor that balances the richness of the almond filling.
For the frangipane (that’s the fancy name for the almond filling), melt the butter in a pan. Once melted, take it off the heat and stir in the sugar until combined.
Now add your ground almonds, beaten egg, and almond extract. Mix it all together until smooth. This mixture should be pourable but not too runny – think of a thick cake batter consistency.
Pour this almond mixture over the jam layer. Don’t worry if it looks like it’s not going to fit – the filling will puff up a bit during baking, but shouldn’t overflow if you’ve got the right sized tin. Sprinkle the flaked almonds over the top for that classic Bakewell look.
The Baking (And the Waiting)
Pop your tart into the preheated oven and bake for about 35 minutes. The top should be golden brown and slightly firm to the touch when it’s done. If you notice the almonds are browning too quickly, loosely cover the tart with foil to prevent them from burning.
The hardest part here is waiting for it to cool. The smell of buttery almond goodness will fill your kitchen and test your resolve not to immediately cut into the hot tart.
Trust me on this – it needs time to set. I speak from the experience of impatience resulting in a molten filling sliding everywhere except onto plates.
Serving Suggestions
Once cooled to room temperature, this tart is perfect as is, but I never say no to a dollop of barely sweetened whipped cream or a scoop of good vanilla ice cream alongside. If you’re feeling particularly British, serve it with a cup of strong tea in the afternoon.
For a slightly boozy twist, you could add a splash of amaretto to the frangipane mixture or even soak the tart with an amaretto syrup after baking.
I’ve done this for dinner parties and it elevates the dessert to something that feels special occasion-worthy, even though it took you less effort than explaining to your kids why they can’t have ice cream for breakfast.
Bakewell Tart Recipe: The Verdict
This Bakewell tart is one of those recipes that looks impressive but is actually quite straightforward to make. The result is a perfect balance of textures – crisp pastry, jammy sweetness, and a soft almond filling with a slight crust on top. It’s homey enough for a weeknight dessert but special enough for company.
Don’t be discouraged if your first attempt isn’t perfect. My first few were questionable at best, but like most things in the kitchen, practice makes progress.
And even the imperfect versions will be delicious enough that people will ask for seconds – which is really the true measure of baking success, isn’t it?
