Throwback Thursday: The rich story of Tipsy Tart, aka Cape Brandy Pudding

There’s a lot that goes into a Tipsy Tart, most especially the brandy. As food writing veteran Errieda du Toit said this week in a comment on my Facebook post about my Tipsy Tart, in agreement with me: “Never measure… just gooi.”

We’re talking about Tipsy Tart, here, aka Cape Brandy Tart, Kaapse Brandewyntert or just brandewyntert, and that name – and we have it from the horse’s mouth, so to speak – was given to it by the late, great Peter Veldsman, whom Errieda and I both miss. 

It falls to us, and other younger food writers such as Herman Lensing and Sam Linsell, to take the baton and make sure that these wonderful old puddings not only remain a part of our food culture, but make a comeback. And if you’ve been following my pudding-writing life in the past year or two, you’ll have noticed that I am on a mission to do just that. (Asynpoeding and Japie se Gunsteling, for instance, and various iterations of Malva pudding.

The late Michael Olivier used to be my go-to person when I needed help in delving deep into the history of a favourite old South African recipe. Peter Veldsman on occasion too. These days, Errieda and I chat now and then and will continue to do so, sharing our love for these old favourites and each finding our way into their past and helping to preserve their future.

Which brings us to Tipsy Tart. Or is it Cape Brandy Pudding? We both needed to now. This week, Errieda generously shared with me her email correspondence with Veldsman on this very subject. We were both chasing the same thing: trying to pinpoint when or how the old Tipsy Tart came to be called Cape Brandy Tart. 

I grew up knowing it as Tipsy Tart, and it is called that in SJA de Villiers’s Cook & Enjoy it/Kook en Geniet, even in the original 1961 edition, on page 222, with the now commonly accepted ratios of equal quantities of walnuts (now we often substitute pecans) and dates, with half a cup of brandy in the syrup that is poured over it. 

In the original edition and ensuing reprints of Cook and Enjoy It there is no mention of it as brandy pudding, Cape or otherwise, though there is a mention very briefly of a date and nut pudding, which is given as a variation of a simple bread pudding. This has nothing in common with a bread and butter pudding, rather being made on a base of breadcrumbs soaked in warm milk, then turned into a kind of baked custard pudding to be served with ginger preserve or vanilla sauce.

But, it turns out that both Errieda and I own copies of a very special South African cookbook; particularly special for me as one of its authors is the mother of my first editor, the late Tony Heard. In Lesley Faull and Vida Heard’s Cookery in Southern Africa, Traditional and Today (1970), an almost forgotten classic, on page 281, there is a recipe for “Old Cape Brandy Pudding”, and the ingredients and method differ little from the Tipsy Tart recipe that has passed to our times. The ingredients list includes chopped dates and nuts, though the type or types of nut are not stated. It is finished with a brandy syrup similar to the common one, but heavier on the sugar.

Vida Heard and Lesley Faull’s Cookery in Southern Africa (Traditional and Today), published in 1970 by Books of Africa. You couldn’t do a cover like that today. (Photo: Tony Jackman)

It was Veldsman who, in that email correspondence with Errieda du Toit, was able to complete the picture. He explained that Lesley Faull (founder of the Silwood Kitchen cookery academy) had grown up in the old Natal and was solely English-speaking. Faull’s mother, of Irish descent, had often made puddings, including Bakewell and Tipsy tarts. This knowledge had stayed with Lesley, and when she established Silwood in 1964 she was sponsored by the South African Sugar Association (which still exists), and in terms of this agreement she was expected to write monthly articles which the Silwood public relations officer, Mervyn Morgan (known as “MM”) would circulate widely in South African media.

Faull chose her stepsister Dos’s Tipsy Tart recipe and, because Oude Meester brandy was a sponsor of Silwood Kitchen, she changed the name to Cape Brandy Pudding. And so it appears in the Faull/Heard classic, but under the fuller title of Old Cape Brandy Pudding. The addition of that little word has the effect of making the title of the pudding seem genuinely “old Cape”. So, between us, and with a little thinking and interpretation, Errieda and I have finally been able to unearth what seems to me to be a very credible explanation of how Tipsy Tart came to be known as Cape Brandy Pudding. With great thanks to lovely Peter Veldsman and a doffed cap to his cherished memory.

Which brings us to today’s recipe, in which I dare to adjust the classic recipe for Tipsy Tart. ??

Classic recipes are beloved for exactly what they are, and should never be tampered with lightly. So when I tell you that I fiddled with a true Cape classic, you need to know that I was quite prepared to put my hands up if messing with it turned out not to be a good idea. And be whisked off by the Pudding Police and force-fed koeksisters for a year or until I repented. The fact that I am writing the recipe means that not only did it work, it turned out fabulously. I’d like to know what you think, if you make it my way.

It was hugely popular last weekend. “Okay if I bring a couple of drunk tarts to the party?” I had asked friends on WhatsApp. Then I got cooking and knew that, if I was to make this particular classic of classic South African puddings, I needed to make it special. Given that it is special already, this was potentially problematic. And meddling.

So I thought: how do I “up” this without losing any of its inherent character, so that anyone seeing it and eating it will know: this is a Tipsy/Cape Brandy tart, call it what you will? It needed to be clearly what it always has been, with just a bit of added voomah. Or “something”.

That “something” turned out to be two things, once I had thought and thunk and pondered and puzzled. Orange. And golden brown sugar. And, though only in the sauce, some muscovado sugar withs its dark molasses intrigue. The added orange does not adjust the tart’s flavour greatly. I put only zest in the tart but no juice, adding the juice to the brandy syrup that is poured over at the end. Again, despite the juice being added to the sauce, it is absolutely a brandy sauce in its essence.

This Tipsy Tart loses nothing of the joys and nature of the original, with people at that party even saying “it’s the zest that makes it” while clearly being a very drunken brandy tart. 

Having said that, you can use my recipe, below, to make the straightforward classic version, simply by switching the golden brown sugar component for equivalent caster sugar and ditching the orange.

A note on coarseness or otherwise: there are two schools of thought. Some, as Veldsman pointed out in his correspondence with Errieda, prefer coarser nuts and dates. I go with the other school, because I have come to prefer the more refined result that transpires when the fruit and nuts are chopped finely. I have a back story for this: when we had a restaurant in Sutherland nearly two decades ago, Cape Brandy Tart (I called it that) was on the menu often. I always chopped them coarsely and, with hindsight, I wasn’t happy with the outcome. Now that I have done it the other way, I very much prefer the lighter option.

Tony’s (zesty) Tipsy Tart

Tony Jackman’s zesty Tipsy Tart. (Photo: Tony Jackman)

(Makes 2 tarts in 22 cm pie dishes)

Ingredients

1 cup (100 g) pecan nuts, chopped

250 g medjool dates, stoned

1 tsp bicarbonate of soda

250 ml boiling water, or just enough to cover the chopped dates

125 g butter, at room temperature

125 g (½ cup) caster sugar

125 g (½ cup) golden brown sugar

2 eggs at room temperature, beaten

2 cups (500 ml) cake flour sifted

5 ml (1 tsp) baking powder

½ tsp salt

Finely grated zest of 1 orange

1 tsp ground cinnamon

¼ tsp ground nutmeg

¼ tsp ground cloves

Syrup:

150 ml golden brown sugar (just over half a cup)

150 ml muscovado sugar

1 Tbsp butter

120 ml water

Juice of 1 orange (about 70 ml)

5 ml (1 tsp) vanilla essence 

pinch of salt

125 ml (½ cup) brandy

Method

Preheat the oven to 180°C.

Grease two 22 cm pie dishes with butter.

Chop the nuts finely. Weigh the dates.

Cut the medjool dates into tiny pieces. They are each about the size of a prune, yet the ones I had had no stones. I sliced each one in quarters lengthwise, and then several times across into tiny bits.

Put two-thirds of the chopped dates into a bowl, sprinkle bicarb over, and pour boiling water in, just enough to cover. (It will be about a cup/250 ml but I didn’t measure.) Let this cool while you continue working. Retain the remaining dates.

In a bowl, cream the butter with both sugars, beating briskly. It will take some elbow grease. When creamy, beat in the eggs.

Sift the dry ingredients (flour, salt) into the creamed mixture and fold until well combined. Stir in the remaining chopped dates, chopped pecan nuts, orange zest and the spices.

Finally, tip the soaked dates in and fold in thoroughly. The bicarb softens the dates and enhances the lightness of the tart. The remaining unsoaked dates contribute to the body of the end product.

Spoon the mixture evenly into the two greased pie dishes.

Bake for between 30 and 40 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a saucepan, boil the golden brown and muscovado sugar, butter, orange juice and water together for 5 minutes, stirring until the sugar dissolves.

Remove from the heat and stir in the vanilla essence, salt and as much brandy as it takes to taste just the way you want it to taste. The recipes say 125 ml (half a cup). Both Errieda and I say: “Gooi!” Daar’s hy.

Prick the top of the tarts in several places with a bamboo skewer. Share about a third of the brandy syrup between the two tarts, pouring it over while they’re still warm. Leave the remainder to reheat and pour over individual slices when serving, with either whipped cream or custard alongside. DM

Tony Jackman is Galliova Food Writer 2023, jointly with TGIFood columnist Anna Trapido. Order his book, foodSTUFF, here

Follow Tony Jackman on Instagram @tony_jackman_cooks.