I make these Sweet Almond Flaky Pastry Tarts on mornings when the house is slow and the light is soft — when the coffee is still warm in a half-drunk mug and the dog pads from foot to oven like he’s on a personal schedule. They’re small things, really: tender pockets of butter-blessed pastry, a whisper of almond, a little caramelized edge that shatters and sighs when you bite into it. What makes them feel special, to me, is that they’re both delicate and delightfully imperfect — the kind of baking that invites a child’s sticky finger and a grown-up’s second helping without complaint.

I’ll admit the first time I made them I was nervous about the flakiness. Puff and layers can be dramatic, and I’d watched too many shows where pastry collapses under pressure. But in practice they’re forgiving in the best way. You get that crisp, crackly top, a gentle chew inside, and the warm nutty aroma that drifts through the kitchen and seems to settle on everything soft — the linen towel, the newspaper, the sleepy shoulders of whoever wanders in. Honestly, a single tart with coffee becomes a whole little ceremony: the clink of ceramic, the hush of turning pages, and the wordless pleasure of something simple done well.

WANT TO SAVE THIS RECIPE?

Just drop your email here and I'll send it right away! Plus you'll get new recipes every week. Yes please!

Share a soft story about how your husband or little family enjoys this dish. Keep it tender and homey, like a memory you’d tell over coffee. Feel free to describe the kitchen scene — morning light, quiet music, weekend chatter.

Our little weekend ritual is quietly competitive, though not in any meaningful way. My husband claims he can tell the difference between toasted almond and almond extract with his eyes closed — he’s wrong more often than not, but he’s happily confident, and that’s part of the charm. The kids make a show of “helping”: one insists on sprinkling the sliced almonds like confetti, another times the oven, announcing “exactly two sing-songs” before we open the door. The dog sits at what I’ll call an appropriate distance, practicing restraint until someone drops a crumb — then he becomes very present. We play old jazz records, or sometimes just leave the radio on low classical, and there’s this warm, domestic soundtrack to the little messes and the gentle payoff.

★Top Reader Reviews

These tarts were a lovely little treat! The almond filling was delicious and the pastry was definitely flaky, though mine could have been a touch more golden. Still, a really satisfying bake that I'd happily make again for a weekend brunch.

– Lily

It’s the sort of recipe that makes conversation easy. Requests for “just one more” come with earnest faces; debates over whether powdered sugar is necessary feel important in the moment. The kitchen is a slow, bright hub for us: a little chaos, a lot of laughter, and the satisfying snap of pastry that reminds us why we bother to bake at home.

Why You’ll Love This Sweet Almond Flaky Pastry Tarts

– They have that wonderful contrast: crisp, golden layers give way to a tender, almost custardy center. It’s the kind of texture that keeps you reaching for one more bite.
– The scent is cozy in the electric way of toasted almonds — warm, a little sweet, and comforting, like a blanket that hums.
– They’re small and shareable. Perfect for passing around at a slow weekend table or tucking into a lunchbox with a note.
– They look lovely without trying hard: golden edges, a scatter of toasted almond slices, a light dusting of sugar, and the occasional glossy dollop of jam or marmalade.
– They fit many moods — a soft morning with coffee, a casual afternoon with tea, or as a gentle dessert after a simple weeknight dinner.

Slow Moments

There’s a particular pleasure in the waiting. Rolling the pastry, letting the layers rest, watching the edges blush in the oven — these are small pauses in a busy life. I find myself lingering at the counter, stirring a cup of coffee with one hand, checking on the tarts with the other, and taking inventory of the little domestic miracles: sunlight pooling on the floor, my daughter’s crayon marks on a scrap of paper, the slow blink of a cat in the doorway. Stirring the almond-scented filling, I always taste for balance — a touch more sweet, a whisper more salt — and sometimes I hum to myself, which seems to make the dough more cooperative. There’s nothing dramatic here; it’s just the lovely, ordinary art of making something to share.

Time-Saving Hacks

– Use store-bought puff pastry on truly busy mornings — it’s a huge shortcut and still gorgeous when baked well.
– Toast your almonds in a dry pan the night before and store them in a jar; that small advance step gives an immediate flavor lift.
– Assemble the tarts and freeze them on a baking sheet, then transfer to a bag. Bake straight from frozen with a minute or two extra time.
– Keep a jar of good jam or marmalade in the fridge to add a glossy finish without fuss.
– A calm reminder: chilling the pastry briefly before baking makes a big difference. Waiting those extra minutes is faster in spirit, if not in the clock’s hands.

Serving Ideas

– Weekend: Lay the tarts on a wooden board with a small bowl of clotted cream or crème fraîche, some sliced citrus, and a pot of bright coffee. Let people serve themselves and linger.
– Weeknight: Pair a tart with a cup of tea or a glass of milk for a simple, comforting finish to the day. It’s small enough to feel indulgent without being heavy.
– For a brunch spread: add fresh berries, plain yogurt, and a platter of soft cheeses.
– For an elegant touch, warm a tart gently and add a spoonful of warm berry compote or a thin drizzle of honey.
– Link to any complementary recipes as you like, but if you’re looking for something citrusy to brighten things up, a simple marmalade or a fresh lemon curd is a quiet, lovely partner.

✔Tips & Mistakes

Be gentle with the dough — overworking it is a temptation I’ve fallen into many times, and that usually leads to less flake. One morning I rolled with too much enthusiasm and ended up with tarts that were perfectly tasty but disappointingly dense. Lesson learned: ease, not force, brings the layers. Also, watch your oven’s edges — they can go from golden to too-dark in a minute. I usually set a timer and then check visually, especially the first time I try a new oven or a new sheet pan. If you’re dusting with sugar, do it warm — it melts slightly and gives the surface a pretty sheen.

✔Storage Tips

Leftovers are surprisingly charming. I store them in an airtight container at room temperature for a day or two and they stay lovely. To bring back the crisp, pop them in a 325°F (160°C) oven for a few minutes until just warm — not too long, or the filling will get too soft. They’re also perfectly pleasant cold with a cup of coffee the next morning. If you’ve assembled and frozen them, bake from frozen and enjoy the luxury of fresh pastry without the fuss.

✔Variations and Substitutions

I’ve swapped in hazelnuts when almonds were low, and while the flavor shifts, the cozy result is still delightful. A little citrus zest — orange or lemon — in the filling brightens things in spring and winter alike. If almond paste is available, a thin ribbon folded into the center adds a luxuriously nutty depth. For a dairy-free version, use a plant-based butter that behaves well in similar temperatures; it won’t be identical but it will be lovely. I’ve tried gluten-free pastry with mixed results — some brands flake wonderfully, others are more cake-like — so if you go that route, test one batch first.

Frequently Asked Questions

I can’t have gluten… will this still work?

Absolutely. Swap soy sauce for tamari or coconut aminos. It keeps the same comforting balance—I often do this for family dinners.

Do I have to peel the pineapple first?

Yes—the peel is too tough. Once it’s gone, the inside is tender and sweet, which is exactly what you want here.

Can I use canned pineapple instead of fresh?

You can. Drain it well; it’s not quite as bright as fresh, but it brings a gentle sweetness when you’re in a pinch.

How sweet is this? Can I tone it down?

Of course. Use a bit less sugar, or try honey or maple syrup. I often adjust depending on the season or time of day.

What if I skip the sesame oil?

That’s fine. You’ll miss a gentle toasty depth, but it remains a warm, comforting dish without it.

Remember it later

Planning to try this recipe soon? Pin it for a quick find later!