Coffee, Memories, and A Fig Tart

Oh, the first time I made this Fig Tart, it was a proper disaster—my kitchen looked like a flour bomb exploded, my cat was sneezing, and yet somehow, everyone ate the whole thing and asked for seconds. That’s how you know you’re onto something, right? Figs always remind me of summer afternoons at my aunt’s place (she insisted figs make desserts feel fancier than they have any right to be). Now, whenever I see those plump figs at the market, I can’t help but grab a bunch and plot out another tart—even if I’m a bit lazy about rolling dough perfectly. Honestly, perfection is highly overrated, especially if you’re prone to snacking on the filling before it even gets in the oven (guilty as charged!).

Why You’ll Want to Make This Fig Tart (Over and Over)

I make this tart when I’ve got friends coming for tea (or let’s be real, when I’m a bit peckish and want something that feels fancy but isn’t a faff). My family goes bonkers for it—my brother once ate almost half while “just tidying the edges” (uh-huh). Sometimes I can’t find fresh figs, so I use dried ones soaked in a splash of orange juice, and it still works! The buttery crust is honestly my favorite bit. It can be a touch crumbly, but you know what? That’s half the charm.

Gather These Ingredients (Swaps Allowed!)

1 1/4 cups (150g) plain flour (all-purpose, but my gran swears by spelt—use what you have)
2 tbsp sugar (sometimes I use honey if I’m feeling a bit rustic)
1/2 cup (115g) cold unsalted butter, cubed (I’ve even used that salted Irish stuff, turns out fine)
1-2 tbsp icy water (play it by ear—flour’s moody)
6-8 fresh figs, sliced (dried work in a pinch, just soak them first)
2 tbsp apricot jam (or honestly, any not-too-chunky jam lurking in the fridge—raspberry’s good)
1 egg (for brushing, but I’ve skipped it and no one noticed)
Optional: handful of chopped pistachios or almonds for crunch

How I Usually Throw This Together (Step by Step—Sort Of)

Make the crust: Chuck the flour, sugar, and butter into a bowl. Rub it all together with your fingers until it’s kind of like sandy breadcrumbs. Or, if you’ve got a food processor, blitz it a bit. (I always forget to chill the butter and it’s fine, but colder is technically better.) Add a tablespoon of water, squish, and if it’s still dry, add more. Form it into a ball, wrap it, and chill for 30 mins—unless you’re impatient, then just pop it in the freezer for 10 and hope for the best.
Roll it out: Flour your counter, roll the dough to about 1/4 inch thick, and drape it over a tart pan (I use a 23cm one, but I’ve squashed it into a cake tin before—just don’t tell Mary Berry). Press into the edges, patch holes if you make them (I always do), and trim off the excess. Stick it in the fridge while you prep the filling.
Get figgy with it: Slice up the figs. If you’re using dried, soak them in warm orange juice for 10 minutes first. Heat the jam in the microwave for 10 seconds—just enough to make it spreadable. Paint the base of your tart with the jam (this is where I sneak a taste—jammy fingers are inevitable).
Arrange the figs: Lay the fig slices over the jam—make it pretty, or just chuck them on, honestly both work. Sprinkle over the nuts if using. Beat the egg and brush the tart’s edge for a bit of shine, but totally optional.
Bake: Pop into a preheated oven (180°C/350°F), middle shelf, for 30-35 minutes, until golden round the edges and the figs are a bit wrinkly. Don’t stress if the jam bubbles over; it always does for me and the sticky bits are the best.

Things I’ve Learned (The Hard Way)

The crust will look a tad rustic, especially if you’re not a pastry pro. Embrace it—it’s homemade, not a patisserie window.
If you use salted butter, just skip the pinch of salt (which I forgot to mention above—see, distracted again!)
Don’t overwork the dough. Seriously, I once kneaded it like bread and it turned out tough as boots.

Other Ways I’ve Messed with This Fig Tart

Once, I tried adding a layer of mascarpone underneath the figs—bit rich, but lovely if you’re feeling indulgent.
Swapping figs for plums is pretty tasty. Cherries, though? Didn’t love it, but maybe you will!
I’ve also thrown in a splash of almond extract; sometimes it’s magic, sometimes a bit much.

What If I Don’t Have a Tart Pan?

Honestly, I’ve just pressed the dough into a regular cake tin, or even made a freeform galette on a baking tray (just fold the edges over the fruit and call it rustic—no one will know). If you’re short a rolling pin, use a wine bottle; works a treat. Actually, that’s how I discovered my favorite rolling pin—the wine bottle. Two birds, one stone.

How Long Does It Keep?

Technically, you can store it covered at room temp for a day, or in the fridge for up to three. But, honestly, it’s never lasted that long in my house. I do think the flavors settle in and get even better by the next day, if you’re lucky enough to have leftovers.

How I Like to Serve Fig Tart

Warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, or a dollop of thick Greek yoghurt—especially for breakfast the next day (not that I’m advocating dessert for breakfast, but, erm, I sort of am). Sometimes we take slices out to the garden for coffee and a chat. That’s my favorite.

What I Wish I’d Known: My Top Fig Tart Lessons

Don’t rush the chilling time, or the crust will shrink up like an old woolly jumper. I learned this the hard way—twice.
Use parchment paper, even if the pan is nonstick. Trust me, wrestling with stuck-on tart isn’t fun, and you’ll say things you regret (well, I did).

Questions I Actually Get About This Tart

Can I use store-bought pastry? Oh absolutely, especially if you’re in a hurry or just not in the mood. Life’s too short, mate.
What if my figs aren’t ripe? I just roast them a bit longer. Or add a drizzle of honey for sweetness. It’s not the end of the world.
Can I freeze it? Eh, technically yes, but the figs go a bit mushy. Tastes fine, just not as pretty. I’d say eat it fresh if you can.
What’s the best jam to use? I’ve tried apricot, raspberry, even a homemade plum one from this Serious Eats recipe. They all work, just avoid anything too chunky.
Any good drink to go with it? If you’re after something special, I like a splash of Italian hot chocolate in winter—so rich! Or a glass of sweet dessert wine, if you’re feeling posh.

So there it is: my Fig Tart, warts and all. If you’re after more baking bits, I sometimes get ideas from Smitten Kitchen’s fig galette—she’s got a knack for easy, unfussy recipes. Anyway, let me know if you try this or tweak it. I love hearing about other folks’ kitchen experiments, even when they go sideways (especially then, to be honest).