That way, the tart is more cohesive, and will cut into proud, clean slices that won’t spill all over the plate. To make the filling, I recommend soaking your breadcrumbs ahead of time. Be sure to roll it as thinly as you dare: this will help you avoid the dreaded soggy bottom as this really is a dish that calls out for a crisp, crunchy shell. It won’t crumble in your hands, and it’s quick to shape and cook. The hands-on elements of this tart are short and simple.

To me, the one-dimensional nature of treacle tart is its raison d’être. But I stop short of the nuts and spices others recommend. I use brown breadcrumbs, rather than white, and add a sprinkle of salt. A little double cream, butter and an egg make the syrup centre richer browning the butter beforehand tips it on to the right side of jaw-achingly sweet.

Plain pastry, breadcrumbs, golden syrup: that’s it. In fact, in its most basic form, treacle tart is a strikingly simple dish. The use of this cheap sugar by-product makes sense in this tart, a true waste-not-want-not pudding that uses stale bread to soak up the sweetness. By 1885, he’d created the iconic green-and-gold tin, emblazoned with a Bible quote: ‘Out of the strong came forth sweetness.’ But his boss, Abram Lyle, was a shrewd businessman. This syrup was initially called ‘Goldie’ and sold on the cheap to factory workers and locals. In 1883, Charles Eastick found a way to turn the waste treacle at the Tate & Lyle factory in Plaistow into a honey-like syrup. But once upon a time, ‘treacle’ was any liquid product of the sugar-refining process. Attempting to make one that isn’t sweet is like trying to make a low-fat suet pastry, or a booze-free Long Island Iced Tea: you’re missing the whole point.Īt first blush, the name ‘treacle tart’ is a misnomer, since few recipes for this dish call for what we now know as treacle. The first ingredient – a whole tin of golden syrup – is the giveaway: this is a dish with little light and shade. In Harry Potter, the love potion Amortentia smells of whatever someone loves most in the world to Harry, it smells of broomsticks, Ginny Weasley’s hair and treacle tart, the first dessert he ever ate at Hogwarts.Īnyone making a treacle tart goes in with their eyes open. It’s the Platonic ideal of a childhood treat, and a byword for comfort. But that, of course, is part of its charm. It’s easy to dismiss treacle tart as a nursery food. The youngsters are particularly taken with the idea of treacle tart, and it’s not difficult to imagine why: unapologetically sweet and sticky, it’s irresistible to small, greedy hands.

‘Come along, kiddie-winkies! Come and get your treacle tart,’ the Child Catcher trills in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, to lure children away.

Treacle tart