Once upon a time, at Toronto’s excellent Barbershop Patisserie, I tasted my first (and only) lemon bichon, caramelized puff pastry sandwiching a slick of zesty lemon curd. As an intrepid home baker, my second thought (after “Delicious!”) was, “I need to try making this!”
Well, friends, that was three years ago. For the last three Januarys, I’ve attempted lemon bichon but never felt confident enough to share a recipe. While some iterations have been delicious, my main issue is that the process has been both niggly and unreliable. Sometimes the lemon filling would behave, staying nestled inside the pastry. Other times, it would spurt all over the tray, leaving behind a lemon-scented shell of puff. I tried lots of different techniques but nothing proved a surefire fix, short of drastically reducing the amount of filling (but that’s not much fun, is it?). A secondary peeve was that the insides would have a thin layer of translucent pastry, simply from prolonged contact with a relatively high moisture filling.
I was set to either give up on sharing a recipe altogether, or share one with the suggestion that you make some extra filling to plump up any pastries that lose their insides during the bake. Then I thought, why not go full hog and hold back all the filling? Why not just pre-bake some turnover shells, then fill them to the brim when ready to serve?
Turns out this was the answer to my problems. Baked alone, the pastry can thoroughly crisp. I like dusting them in sugar pre-bake, which allows the outside layer to caramelize in the oven. Once the shells have cooled you gently cut the shell and fill with the perfect amount of your chosen filling (which IMO is at least the weight of the pastry shell, if not a touch more). No soggy pastry, no wasted filling.
Pre-baking puff pastry on its own is not a new concept; it’s the base of mille-feuille, custard slice, and the like. But I’ve never seen puff pastry pre-baked in this sort of turnover shape, and I’m not sure why. I love that they’re perfectly handheld — plates and utensils not needed. You could go a number of ways with the pastry shape, but I’m partial to a half-moon, which allows for a neat maritozzi-esque smile of filling.
The filling I settled on is essentially a pastry cream but with lemon juice in place of some of the dairy. Texturally, it’s more similar to a lemon meringue pie filling than a curd, and keeps its shape nicely in the finished pastry.
Though a lemon filling was the impetus for this whole idea, I love that this technique opens up a whole world of hand pies — namely, any filling you can’t bake. Think a rich chocolate creme diplomat swirled with some cherry jam (tried it, YUM); or a banana cream filling; or gently macerated, in-season strawberries with chantilly cream. All of these can, and should be, done.
Tips for success
While there are quite a few steps in this recipe, you can easily break up the work over several days. The pastry keeps well in the fridge for a couple days or in the freezer for longer; and the filling can be made several days in advance.
For the flakiest, prettiest pastry, chill your dough often, both during the folding and cutting process. I’ve opted for rough puff pastry in this recipe, which is easier and more forgiving than classic puff. But rough puff still benefits from plenty of chill time to both relax the gluten and keep the butter cold. If your pastry ever starts feeling warm/limp or refuses to roll any further, don’t force it — stick it in the fridge and come back to it later.
Don’t toss your pastry trimmings! I like to stack of all my trimmings together (don’t squish them; you want to preserve your layers) and store them in the fridge, wrapped in plastic. At the end, I roll out the trimmings and do another turn just to make it more uniform, then roll and cut out another two or three turnover shells. Or make a little batch of palmiers!
If you want extra glossy caramelized pastry, at the end of the bake, dust the tops evenly with icing sugar and bake for a few minutes at 475F (or under the broiler, not too close). You’ll need to watch the pastry carefully and turn often to ensure it doesn’t burn. I do think the results with just granulated sugar and flipping the pastry halfway through the bake are quite nice so this isn’t really necessary, more an aesthetic choice.
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