Silverbeet & olive tart with parmesan crust
Silverbeet, olives and a cheese-rich pastry make one of those honest, rustic tarts that turn a few humble greens into a proper meal. The trick is in two places: a crisp, blind-baked parmesan crust, and olives with enough character to stand up to the chard.
Silverbeet is simply chard — the big, glossy leaf with a fleshy white stem that grows almost anywhere and costs next to nothing. Cooked down with onion, garlic and thyme, bound with egg and cream, and studded with sliced Kalamata olives in a parmesan short crust, it becomes a tart that eats far above its humble parts. This is peasant cooking in the best sense: cheap greens, good oil, salty fruit, and a little cheese doing a lot of work.
Getting the crust right
The base is a savoury short crust enriched with grated parmesan: flour, cold butter and cheese blitzed to crumbs with a pinch of salt, brought together with a few tablespoons of iced water, then rested cold. Rest it, roll it, line the tin, and rest it again — cold pastry keeps its shape. Then blind bake it: line with paper, fill with rice or beans, and bake until set before it ever meets the wet filling. Skip this and you get the cook’s oldest enemy, a soggy bottom.
The filling, and where the oil earns its place
Soften a chopped onion in olive oil, add garlic and plenty of fresh thyme, then the chopped silverbeet — leaves and finely sliced stems — and cook just until wilted. The single most important step is to drain it hard: chard holds a startling amount of water, and wet filling is what makes a custard weep. Cool it, fold through beaten eggs and cream, season carefully (the olives and parmesan are already salty), scatter the olives on top and bake until just set with a faint wobble.
Choosing the olives
Kalamata is the classic here — its wine-dark, fruity, slightly bitter flesh cuts the richness of the custard. Buy them whole and pit them yourself if you can; pre-pitted olives are softer and less flavoursome, and jarred slices are softer still. If Kalamata is hard to find, any firm, brine-cured black olive with real flavour will do — just avoid the bland canned Californian sort, which will vanish into the tart. A drizzle of good extra virgin over the finished slice ties the whole thing together.
| Choice | Do this | Not that |
|---|---|---|
| Pastry base | Blind bake until set and pale-gold | Fill it raw and hope |
| Silverbeet | Wilt, then drain hard | Add it wet from the pan |
| Olives | Whole Kalamata, pitted by you | Soft jarred slices |
| Seasoning | Salt lightly — cheese & olives salt it | Season as if plain |
| Serving | Warm, with a thread of raw EVOO | Fridge-cold and dry |
Practical tips
- Blind bake the parmesan crust before filling — it is the whole difference between crisp and soggy.
- Drain the silverbeet ruthlessly; residual water makes the custard weep.
- Under-salt the custard — Kalamata and parmesan bring plenty.
- Serve warm, finished with a thread of raw extra virgin olive oil.
- Swap in spinach out of season, but wring it even harder — it holds more water still.
Silverbeet & olive tart: common questions
What is silverbeet?
It is chard — the leafy green with a broad glossy leaf and a fleshy stem. Spinach is the usual substitute, though it holds even more water and needs wringing out harder.
Why must I blind bake the crust?
Because the wet filling would otherwise soak the raw pastry and leave a soggy base. Blind baking sets and crisps the crust first.
Which olives are best for this tart?
Kalamata — fruity, wine-dark and slightly bitter — cut the rich custard well. Any firm, flavourful brine-cured black olive works; avoid bland canned ones.
Can I make it ahead?
Yes. It keeps a day or two chilled and is best gently rewarmed so the pastry crisps again and the flavours open up. Add a fresh drizzle of oil before serving.
How do I stop the filling being watery?
Drain the wilted silverbeet thoroughly before mixing, and do not over-fill with cream. A well-drained filling sets clean rather than weeping.
Two things make or break this tart, and neither is glamorous. Blind bake the crust so it stays crisp under the wet filling, and drain the silverbeet until it is almost dry — chard hides a shocking amount of water, and that water is what turns a set custard into a weepy mess. On the olives, spend where it counts: whole Kalamata you pit yourself have real fruit and bite; jarred slices are soft and forgettable. Finish each warm slice with a thread of good raw oil.
A rewritten, kitchen-tested method for a classic chard-and-olive tart; quantities are a guide, not a strict formula.