Puff and Circumstance: Salami & Ricotta Sfoglia
Italian-inspired fusion (Italian charcuterie flavors with French puff pastry technique)
Time
Total: about 75 minutes (10–12 min balsamic reduction + 25–30 min caramelizing onions + 15–25 min prep/assembly + 18–22 min baking + small resting time)
Servings
6–8 servings
Difficulty
Medium

🥘 Ingredients

⚠️ Allergen Information

👨‍🍳 Instructions

  1. Make the balsamic reduction first so it has time to cool: pour 1/2 cup (120 ml) balsamic vinegar into a small saucepan and bring to a gentle simmer over medium-low heat. Reduce until syrupy and thick enough to coat the back of a spoon, about 10–12 minutes. Watch closely—it can burn. Stir in 1 tablespoon honey at the end, remove from heat and set aside to cool (it will thicken more as it cools).
  2. Caramelize the onions while the reduction cooks: heat 1 tablespoon olive oil and 1 tablespoon butter in a wide skillet over medium-low heat. Add the thinly sliced onions with a pinch of salt and stir to coat. Cook slowly, stirring every few minutes, until deeply golden and sweet, about 25–30 minutes. If the pan dries, add a tablespoon of water to deglaze. Taste and adjust salt at finish; set aside to cool slightly.
  3. Prepare the herbed ricotta spread: in a bowl combine 1 cup ricotta, 1/4 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, 1 teaspoon chopped thyme, 1/2 teaspoon lemon zest, 1/4 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper. Stir until smooth and set aside.
  4. Preheat the oven to 400°F (200°C). Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
  5. Roll the thawed puff pastry sheet lightly on a floured surface to even it out to roughly 11x13 inches; prick the center area (leave a 1-inch border) with a fork to discourage excessive rising in the middle. Transfer the pastry to the prepared baking sheet.
  6. Spread the herbed ricotta evenly over the central area of the pastry, leaving the 1-inch border bare. Spoon dollops of fig jam across the ricotta—aim for 8–10 small dots so the sweetness is present but not overwhelming. Distribute the caramelized onions in an even layer over the ricotta and jam.
  7. Arrange the salami on top in a decorative overlapping pattern. For roses: take individual slices, fold in half lengthwise, then roll into a loose rose and place across the tart for a dramatic look. Alternatively, lay slices in concentric rows. Sprinkle the chopped toasted walnuts evenly over the top and dust lightly with an extra tablespoon of grated Parmigiano-Reggiano.
  8. Brush the 1-inch pastry border with the beaten egg wash for a golden finish (optional). If you prefer no egg, brush with a little olive oil or milk alternative.
  9. Bake in the preheated 400°F (200°C) oven until the pastry is puffed and deep golden, about 18–22 minutes. Rotate the tray halfway if your oven has hot spots.
  10. While the tart bakes, toss the baby arugula with 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil and a small pinch of salt and pepper to make a quick salad for topping.
  11. Remove the tart from the oven and let rest for 5 minutes so the layers settle. Finish with a scattering of arugula, a light drizzle of the cooled balsamic reduction, an extra drizzle of honey if you like more sweet-savory contrast, a sprinkle of flaky sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, and a little extra Parmigiano-Reggiano if desired.
  12. Slice into 6–8 portions and serve warm or at room temperature. Leftovers keep covered in the refrigerator for up to 2 days; reheat in a 350°F (175°C) oven for 6–8 minutes to refresh the pastry before serving.

📖 Backstory

They call it Puff and Circumstance because, frankly, a name like "Salami & Ricotta Sfoglia" implied less pomp than the thing deserved. The truth is more modestly theatrical: I invented it on the back of a second-class train crammed with musicians, a sleeping accordion, and a man who insisted his mother’s ricotta held the secrets of the Renaissance. Somewhere between Milan’s morning light and Lyon’s pastry alarms I wed a sheet of unsullied, all-butter puff pastry to thinly sliced salami with the solemnity of a justice of the peace and the confidence of someone who, at that point, had eaten approximately three croissants too many. Parmigiano was there, slightly scandalized, and thyme drifted through the carriage like an important guest who’d arrived late but brought good news.

The recipe’s origins are not so much culinary as diplomatic. I brokered peace between two feuding guilds—the salami men who swear by air-drying and the pâtissiers who insist all layers must be laminated at dawn—by presenting each delegation a warm, flaky slice and watching them forget centuries of grudges in favor of immediate, unadulterated joy. Ricotta mellowed the salami’s bravado; a blind sprinkle of Parmigiano cut through like a kindly aunt. The pastry, being a noble stage, fluffed itself into multiple acts, and thyme, ever the understated supporting actor, made everyone agree they had been living wrong their whole lives.

Now I bring Puff and Circumstance to picnics, emergencies, and the occasional minor national festival I instigate in my backyard. Guests weep not from sadness but from butter, and children point solemnly as if recognizing a hero. If you make it, do so with ceremony: thaw the sheet, let the salami sing, dollop the ricotta like a benediction, and finish with Parmigiano and thyme as though you are affixing a tiny flag saying "All is well." I will not claim this dish ended wars, only that it might settle a very small argument between your taste buds and your better judgment.