Makes 6 to 8 servings
I’ve given up trying to define a croustade precisely, shape-shifter that it is. These days, I go with “pie” — double-crusted or open-faced. It can be made with many different types of dough, but because the first croustade I ever had was made with phyllo, it’s become my standard. In this version, layers of phyllo are brushed with butter and sprinkled with cinnamon sugar. Halfway through the eight double layers is a mix of dried fruit and fresh apple moistened with bourbon. And, if you’re feeling playful, you can finish the croustade with a fillip of crushed phyllo that crisps and ruffles in the oven.
Even if you’ve never baked before, you can build a beautiful croustade — the operative word here is “build”: It’s a construction project.
Working Ahead
The fruit should be steeped in the bourbon for at least 1 hour, and it can sit for up to a day. You can make the croustade a couple of hours ahead.
Bring the water and bourbon to a boil in a small saucepan. Stir in the prunes, dates, dried pears or dried apples and ginger, cover and set aside to steep for at least 1 hour. (You can steep the fruit for up to 1 day.)
Stir the fresh apple and the mandarin (or clementine or tangerine), if you’re using it, into the dried fruit mixture.
When you’re ready to assemble and bake the croustade, center a rack in the oven and preheat it to 400 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with a double layer of parchment paper or use a silicone baking mat or foil.
Mix the sugar and cinnamon together in a small bowl. Have the butter and a pastry brush nearby (I prefer a silicone basting brush here).
Lay a piece of plastic wrap, a sheet of parchment or a clean kitchen towel on the counter and put the phyllo sheets on it. Using a ruler and scissors, cut the stack of sheets, a few at a time, into 9-inch squares. Keep the squares and the trimmings covered with a lightly moistened kitchen towel. (Phyllo dries almost instantly, so always keep it covered.)
Place 2 squares of phyllo in the center of the lined baking sheet, brush with melted butter and sprinkle with some cinnamon sugar, then repeat until you’ve got 4 sets of double sheets. As you’re working, the phyllo may tear and you might have some gaps and some shaggy pieces — it’s annoying, but not fatal: You can use the phyllo trimmings as patches. There are so many layers that cracks, tears, creases and folds won’t amount to much in the end.
Spoon the fruit onto the phyllo — if there’s any liquid in the saucepan, you can include a tablespoon or so of it. Spread the fruit out, leaving about an inch of dough bare as a border all around.
Cover the fruit with another set of 4 double-phyllo sheets, again buttering and sugaring each set and not worrying about how even or smooth the sets are. When you’ve got this batch in place, work around the edges of the croustade, folding them up and in with your hands to form a border. The border will be rippled and ragged, but it will be fine. Brush a little butter along the turned-up edges, then butter and sugar the top of the croustade. If you’d like to give the croustade a fancy finish, scrunch up some pieces of leftover phyllo and place them on top. Dab or sprinkle melted butter over the scrunchies and then dust them with some plain sugar.
Bake for 15 minutes, then cover the croustade loosely with a foil tent and bake for 15 to 20 minutes more. There’s really no test for doneness with the croustade — when it’s golden brown, call it finished (look for good color; pale phyllo is not tasty). Transfer the baking sheet to a rack and allow the croustade to cool until it is only just warm or reaches room temperature before serving.
Storing: This is not a storable sweet: The croustade is best the day it’s made and awfully nice slightly warm. If you’d like, you can pop the croustade into a 350-degree-F oven for a few minutes to rewarm it before serving.