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Catching up on the BBA Challenge (and boy, do I have some catching up to do!), I tackled Peter Reinhart’s English Muffins a couple of weeks ago but took forever to post about them, perhaps because the entire process swept by so smoothly and effortlessly in one day, it felt more like cookie-making than bread-making.

Milk, butter, sugar and salt comprise the supporting cast of characters in this simple formula that comes together in six little balls of dough that are left to rise under a scanty coat of cornmeal. Cooked on a griddle, where they don their patchy brown shields, the muffins are finished with a few minutes in the oven, completing their journey towards true, muffin goodness, replete with a characteristically rough and crumbly interior.

Enriched by the addition of butter and milk, English Muffins are a fuss-free and utterly delicious introduction to the world of bread. If there’s one thing that McDonald’s did right for this Singaporean kid many many years ago, it was to show that bread could actually be delicious in a sandwich, worlds away from the bland slices of packaged bread sold by the local industrial bakery. Not much of a bread heritage to crow about I know (since rice and noodles are more my thing), but I’ll always remember my first bite of a freshly toasted McMuffin with its chewy texture and flavors that were strangely comforting for an industrial bread. Of course, one might suspect the addition of numerous anonymous chemicals and the dreaded HFCS to achieve this, which is why I was delighted to discover how unbelievably easy it was to make my own muffins. Another point against industrial food!

Perfect on their own toasted with just a dab of butter, one bite of these mealy muffins with their meltingly soft textures will be enough to convince you that there really isn’t any reason for those frozen store-bought muffins to hide out in your freezer. Really, there isn’t. Especially when you can whip up fancy breakfasts like Eggs Benedict for a mid-week treat to remind you that the weekend’s not too far away.

Usually served with slices of good ham or bacon, I opted for a less calorific (and vegetarian) option by substituting the meats with smoked salmon, which worked out perfectly. Apart from jams and marmalade, runny eggs are the next best thing to enjoy muffins with, their vast absorbent crumb serving as the perfect sponge with which to wipe off the oodles of yellow sauce off the plate with a flourish.

(Note: We’re not posting the bread recipes as part of this challenge, but if you’re curious about the breads we’re making, get yourself a copy of the book, check out the BBA Challenge page and start baking!)

Eggs Benedict with Smoked Salmon
Makes 2 servings

2 English Muffins, halved and toasted with a small pat of butter
4 large eggs, poached (Elise at Simply Recipes has a great tutorial on poaching fresh eggs, otherwise these silicone egg poachers do the job equally well for eggs that are a few days old)

Keep the muffin halves and poached eggs warm while you prepare the Hollandaise sauce.

Hollandaise Sauce: (adapted from The Kitchn)
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
4 large egg yolks
2 tablespoons fresh lime or lemon juice
1 tablespoon heavy whipping cream
Salt and ground black pepper

In a medium bowl, whisk the egg yolks, lime/lemon juice and cream with a dash of salt and ground pepper. Set aside.

Melt the butter in a small saucepan just enough for it to start swirling around the pan and take it off the heat. Do not let it brown.

Whisk five tablespoons of the melted butter into the egg/cream mixture, a tablespoon at a time. Ensure that each spoonful is fully incorporated before adding the next and whisk continuously.

Pour the egg/cream mixture into the pan with the rest of the melted butter, turn the heat to low and whisk vigorously for about 10 to 15 seconds until you get a thick and luscious yellow sauce. It’s important to control the heat at this stage and not to overcook the sauce which would curdle the egg yolks. If your Hollandaise isn’t thick enough, increase the cooking time in five second blocks, whisking continuously until you get the desired consistency.

To Serve:
2 ounces/ 55 grams smoked salmon, cut into 1-by-½-inch slices
3 chive stalks, finely chopped, to garnish
Salt and pepper

Layer each muffin half with two slices of smoked salmon and a poached egg. Drizzle the Hollandaise over the stack, garnish with chives and salt and pepper. Serve warm and soak up any excess yolk or sauce with the bread.

That’s it for this week’s installment and check back soon for the next bread on the list: Foccacia. In the meantime, here are other BBA Muffin baking stories for your reading pleasure:

Have a Vision and Get a Tripod.

If I had to summarize the key lessons from the weekend in Long Beach with Matt Armendariz and the Food Fanatics, these two would be in that list. After familiarizing ourselves with the ins and outs of styling food for the camera on Saturday, we put theory into practice on Sunday with our individual projects, shot under Matt’s watchful eye with Denise and Cindie on-hand for styling consultations.

Right off the bat, Matt talked about the importance of having a vision before commencing a shoot, which, needless to say, makes for a smoother workflow. It’s something I’m still working on – I don’t usually begin with a clear vision in mind (except for the occasional ingredient that really inspires me), instead I often have vague ideas of potential colors, textures and looks that are gradually refined as I start plating the food and combining different props on the table.

With the curry, I had spent the better part of the previous evening tossing up different ways to present it, but I wasn’t willing to settle on any one of them till I got to the studio. I had in mind a rustic yet clean look for the final image, but it wasn’t until I found a beautifully-woven placemat in Matt’s linen closet that the image started to come together. A bunch of sexy, delicate bowls from Mud Australia provided just the simplicity that I was looking for, while Cindie showed how fluffing the tops of the rice introduced a textural element to an otherwise bland canvas and the best way to highlight the ingredients in the curry. All that was left was to arrange the bunch of raw ingredients on the set for a visually interesting image, which actually sounds easier than it was, because there was the tripod to figure out.

I’ve never been much of a tripod person, preferring instead the flexibility and mobility of a handheld approach over the rigidity and stability of a three-legged structure. I’ve grown accustomed to switching perspectives in the blink of an eye, leaving the set fairly static while moving around, trying to capture different angles. It’s a slightly more “organic” approach to shooting, if you will.

With a tripod, however, image composition was a methodic process, where I was constantly viewing the set through the lens to piece together the final picture. This process requires a clearer vision of the type of image you want to achieve (hence Matt’s advice), which would include thinking about the perspective you plan on shooting from. Besides navigating the tripod’s controls, it took me a while to realize that I could move the set to fit into the frame, instead of trying to wrestle with the tripod, an insight that made life a little easier.

After creating the set and prepping the camera, there was the garnish to think about, without which the curry looked like a sorry, flat mass of grey and orange. I knew that all I needed was a slender, perky stalk of cilantro, but the question was, which one? And after identifying the Chosen Few, there was the million-dollar question of Where do you place it?

Like the hint of mascara to “open up” the eyes, the right amount of garnish helps to complete the look of the dish you’re shooting. But it has to be placed just so, conveying a sense of carefree abandon instead of perfect composure.

58 wilted cilantro stalks and 20 minutes later, I finally found the ‘perfect’ strand that stayed afloat and alive long enough to smile for the camera before sinking, like its predecessors, into the thick liquid. There was no small amount of tweezing, shaping and hovering over the bowl, searching for the right spot on this orange pond for a humble herb. I guess my caffeinated hands didn’t help much in the delicate task of shifting and poking the curry’s ingredients to ’support’ the leaf, but the stars finally aligned and I got it done. The curry was dressed up, gilded with a herbaceous flash and all was right with the world.

The day’s schedule was pretty fluid. When we weren’t shooting or chopping up ingredients for our dishes, we were helping each other create sets, observing the shoots taking place and picking up tips and tricks from Cindie, Denise and Matt. And playing with Peanut, Cindie’s adorable chihuahua that won everyone over.

Before we knew it, the last shoot was complete and it was time to pack up the studio and watch a slideshow of stellar images from the morning’s shoot. I was blown away by the quality of the images; frozen pizza looked like an artisan’s masterpiece, a BLT that was too tempting to eat, a simple spring salad transformed into sophisticated hors d’oeuvres, just to name a few. We left that day completely inspired and excited about shooting and styling our next dish. I was so motivated and had learnt so much that I promptly got myself a tripod and a ball head, after trying  to compose a shot through the camera’s lens with limited success.

A big, huge and awesome thanks again to Matt, Cindie and Denise for spending their weekend with us and inspiring a whole new bunch of food bloggers and writers to dress up food for the camera. It’s been two weeks since the class, but I can remember the details like it happened yesterday.

Looking for more? Check out these recaps from other food bloggers who attended the workshop:

 

 

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Decadent as it may sound, we’re having dessert for this month’s lunch installment! Set aside those cold sandwiches, wrinkled salads and overnight soups for this Cranberry Lime tart. It’s as finger-licking delicious and yes, tart as they come.

A category as wide and tempting as ‘Fall Desserts’ is pure nightmare for an indecisive Libran like me. So many ingredients, so little time. Karen over at Geofooding, ever the decisive blogger that she is, staked her claim on pumpkin ice-cream while I was still tossing up between persimmons, pears and butternut squash. None of the recipes I came across really jumped out at me, until I read this recipe for a Cranberry Lime Galette from Dorie Greenspan. Not a big fan of galettes in general, I decided to make a tart out of it, with my mother-in-law’s trusted pâte brisée recipe.

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Like a perfect pair of shoes, having a trusted pie/tart dough recipe will get you through any icky situation. Sure, you’ll look around, try on countless new pairs (recipes) whenever they catch your eye, but for those times when you need a pair that will get you from office chic to evening glam in full comfort (or, in culinary terms, whip out a tart out to impress), there’s only one that you turn to for results. Don’t feel compelled to use the dough recipe I share here (which was previously used in the apple tart), especially if you’ve got a recipe that you know and trust. I’ve found that the most important thing when transforming flour, dough and butter into flaky crust is confidence, and you need to be comfortable with any recipe you use. Just like, you know, that pair of shoes.

In typical Dorie fashion, she surprised me with the combination of flavors in this filling: cranberries, lime, ginger, apples and raspberry jam, which made for a long finish on the palate. I was struck by the pungent tartness of the cranberries, each ball of nutritious juice and vitamins gently shriveled into deflated balloons alongside apple chunks caramelized in their own juice. I found the final filling too sweet though, and suspect it came from the three tablespoons of raspberry jam originally called for. I used a store-bought jam, which probably has a higher content than home-made versions, so I’ll cut it down in future tarts. All the same, I’ve moderated the amount of jam in the recipe below, so be sure to taste for balance before filling the shell.

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If, like me, you happen to launch into a recipe without reading it completely, let me highlight that in this case, you’ll want to ‘protect’ the bottom of the tart by spreading a layer of ground nuts and bread crumbs before adding the fruits. I misread the original recipe and ended up mixing all the ingredients together, which, as you can guess, resulted in a crust that was soggier than it otherwise would be. Moral of the story? Read carefully!

Cranberry Lime Tart (adapted from Dorie Greenspan’s Baking: From My Home To Yours)
Makes one 9-inch or one 13-by-4-inch tart

1 batch of pâte brisée dough, chilled
3 tablespoons ground nuts (walnuts, almonds, pecans or skinned hazelnuts – I used a mix of walnuts and pistachios)
3 tablespoons dry bread crumbs
2 cups fresh cranberries, rinsed (if using frozen cranberries, thaw and pat dry before using)
1 medium red or green apple, peeled, cored and cut into ½-inch chunks
¾ cup packed light brown sugar
1-inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and finely chopped or grated
Grated zest of 1 lime
Juice of ½ a lime
1 to 2 tablespoons store-bought raspberry jam (feel free to add another tablespoon if using home-made jam)
Confectioners’ sugar, for dusting

Preheat the oven to 400F/ 200C and line a baking sheet with parchment or a silicone mat. Grease the tart pan.

Roll out the dough on a well-floured surface until 1/8-inch thick and a couple of inches larger than the size of your tart pan.

Transfer the dough to the pan, gently pressing it into the corners with your fingers. Remove any excess dough by passing the rolling pin over the pan’s edges. Refrigerate while you prepare the filling.

Mix the nuts and bread crumbs in a small bowl and set aside. In another bowl, toss together the remaining ingredients until each cranberry and apple chunk is well-coated in a thick, syrupy sauce.

Remove the crust from the refrigerator and sprinkle the base with the nut and crumb mixture. Top with the filling and place the pan on the baking sheet.

Bake for 35 to 40 minutes, rotating the pan half-way through for even baking. The tart is ready when the cranberries have popped and the filling is all bubbly.

Leave the tart to cool on a rack and serve just warm or at room temperature, dusted with confectioners’ sugar.

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For more lunch decadence, check out what the rest of the Let’s Lunch folks whipped up today:

Food Styling Workshop 107

What do you do when presented with the opportunity to work with some of the stalwarts in the world of food styling and photography for a weekend? Why, you shoot an email to the organizers in half the time it would take for a celebrity chef to swear and wait in anxious anticipation for the reply confirming your spot.

As soon as I learnt on Twitter that Denise Vivaldo and Cindie Flannigan, the creative minds behind Food Fanatics, were teaming up with photographer Matt Armendariz for a specially tailored food styling workshop for food bloggers and writers, I jumped at the chance. Literally. With the limited class size (10) and a general scarcity of food styling resources around, I was pretty sure that each spot would be snapped up in no time.

And so it happened that while every other food blogger in North America descended upon San Francisco for a weekend of foodie fun at Foodbuzz’s First Annual Blogger Festival, I was on another plane headed for Long Beach to join nine other students at Matt’s gorgeous studio to learn the tips and tricks of styling food for the camera. There was a tinge of nervousness too.

“Would my skills be up to scratch?” “What on earth would I shoot?”

We each had a ‘project’ for Sunday, to prep and style a dish of our choice for a shoot, under the guidance of Denise, Cindie and Matt. Pre-occupied with these thoughts, I contemplated the feasibility of cooking at the studio (pasta? pizza? a cake?) for the 55 minutes of the flight, only to conclude that buying a cake or a pack of cookies from Safeway would be ideal option.

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Saturday morning dawned foggy and grey, and after a short drive from The Varden, the latest addition to Long Beach’s coterie of hotels, I finally identified the unassuming entrance to Matt’s studio, which was signposted by his husband Adam, looking somewhat like me (i.e., sheepish) on a chilly Fall morning.

Entering the high-ceilinged studio, I quickly scanned the long table for a seat, which was already prepped with a folder containing all the materials we would cover over that weekend. Settling in with an excellently brewed cup of coffee, I met the rest of the class: a mix of authors, photographers and bloggers, including Phoo-D, Anita from Married…With Dinner and fellow Let’s Lunch blogger, Cathy from Show Food Chef.

After an initial round of introductions, Denise provided us with an overview of the world of food styling, the work that she and Cindie have been doing in the field, and how the landscape of food styling has changed since she started in the business 20 years ago. Acknowledging the lack of information out there (hence this workshop) she highlighted the immense opportunities available for individuals that were well-versed across various aspects of the styling and shooting process. Like us, food bloggers and self-published cookbook authors.

Pancakes kicked off the first of three demonstrations for the day. Almost on cue, we whipped out our cameras and secured prime vantage points the moment Cindie poured the batter into the pan. We were, after all, a roomful of photographers, eager to soak up every iota of information to apply these tips in our home kitchen.

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With Denise providing the commentary, peppered with hilarious anecdotes from her past experiences, I managed to jot down these pointers for achieving the perfect stack of pancakes:

  • Adding some baking soda to the batter will help maintain a fluffy pancake.
  • You’ll almost always have to ’sacrifice’ the first pancake because the pan won’t be hot enough.
  • The look of the top pancake will differ depending on what you want to show; an even, golden-hue for pancakes vs a mesh of brown for flapjacks, for example.
  • Freezing the syrup in advance gives it a gooey, dripping texture when squeezed over the stack.

Pancake demo

Next up was a plate of salmon and green beans. The fish was first pan-fried, skin side down, to achieve the desired color, before being glazed with corn syrup and finished with a torch to achieve the right sprinkling of black specks for the ‘barely-grilled’ look.

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When it comes to fish, here are some tips to bear in mind:

  • Decide on the shape of the fish fillet before cooking, as raw fish is more likely to stay in one piece.
  • Keep the skin on as it helps to hold the flesh together while cooking.
  • The key is to avoid overcooking the fish, which would cause its protein to ooze out through the cracks in unsightly white patches and is remarkably difficult to remove.
  • If there’s a sauce involved, cook each element separately and assemble them before the shoot.

Demo2 montage

Burgers were the last demonstration for the day, and again, the principles of undercooking the meat applied:

  • Meat tends to shrink by 30 to 40% during cooking so to preserve its size and ensure that it fits perfectly on the bun, quickly sear it on the pan so that the patty holds together.
  • Use a kitchen torch to brown the meat, and (for red meat) brush on dark corn syrup for that ‘perfectly grilled’ look.
  • Best to sear the patty on a grill pan so that the initial indentations will provide a guide for making grill marks after taking it off the pan (top picture).

After the burger demo, we were left free to try our hands at preparing a beef patty (like what Joe’s doing below), melting butter on pancakes with a heat gun and smearing a burger with kitchen bouquet and dark corn syrup for the “right” look.

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After playing around with these kitchen gadgets, I explored Matt and Adam’s immense prop collection. Walking into their kitchen is like entering a paradise of gorgeous finds from antique and thrift stores. I thought I was in Goodwill heaven.

Wooden boards, wire baskets, deep bowls, shallow bowls, prep bowls, plates, platters in all shapes, colors, sizes and textures, you name it, I’ll find it for you. Oh and I haven’t even started on the glassware. And the cutlery. And the linens. And the bunnies.

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Props montage
Food Styling Workshop 104

Although three demonstrations may seem very little, I found them sufficient in conveying the key principles of preparing and plating a dish for a photo shoot. At the end of the day, it’s all about THE LOOK, and you do whatever it takes to produce that look. That involves a fair amount of problem-solving (especially with last-minute requests from clients), but alot of it has got to do with being a critical shopper to seek out the very best ingredients, be it meat, fish, vegetable or fruit. You’d also need to have a pretty good understanding about what food is all about, how each ingredient behaves and looks on a set, how to use it at its visual prime and to dress it up for the camera.

In Denise’s words,

“Food styling is about putting different pieces of perfect food together.”

And I couldn’t agree more.

We ended the day with a short discussion about our projects. Listening to Cindie and Denise talk about the skills involved with food styling and the different challenges inherent in each shoot, the risk-taker in me decided to abandon cookies and cake and put myself up to styling and shooting curry. Up until Sunday, I had yet to successfully shoot a bowl of this delicious coconut broth, and since I’d like to give my mother’s recipes a try at some point and post about them, I figured it was now or never to transform a bowl of the spicy, brown/orange/pale green stuff into something remarkably appetizing for the camera.

Stay tuned for my next post about our shooting projects with Matt!

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Truffles

It’s been a whirlwind of activity since returning from Denver last week. On Saturday, I drove up to San Francisco to spend the day with Dianne Jacob and a host of other aspiring writers (including Patricia from Brownies For Dinner and Joel from Six By 10 Tiny Kitchen) for a workshop on food writing. It wasn’t your typical way to spend a Saturday, but time flew by as the seven of us discussed everything from the state of food writing today to the importance of blogging, to reporting our brownie and biscotti-eating experiences, all guided by Dianne’s wealth of knowledge in the field. She conducts a number of writing workshops and courses in the Bay Area as well as online, but if classes aren’t quite your style, I highly recommend investing in a copy of her excellent guide to food writing, ‘Will Write For Food’. It’s a concise compendium of everything you’d need to know about food writing peppered with some stellar examples from writing luminaries, like Calvin Trillin, MFK Fisher and Elizabeth David.

After a restful Sunday, it was full-on planning for our second wedding anniversary on Tuesday where I conspired with my imagination to surprise M with an indulgent home-cooked dinner. It was also a week of new beginnings, as I started practicing Ashtanga yoga again at a studio near our home, an endeavor which has been surprisingly exhilarating and enlightening despite my initial reservations about this branch of yoga. Past experiences left me panting mid-way through the practice, thoughts racing, breaths out of sync and wondering “WHAT am I doing to myself?”. Fortunately, I encountered none of that in the studio’s Mysore approach. Despite a 6:30am start, I find myself leaving the studio bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, filled with a peculiar mix of joy, excitement and achievement that I haven’t felt in a while. It comes in that split second when I step out of the studio into the cool morning air into the gentle sunlight, like a parting gift.

So, yes, things have been busy around here. But I did want to share my excitement about planning Tuesday’s dinner. It all started when I read a post from a fellow BlogHer Food attendee (whose blog I cannot recall, unfortunately), who picked up a few Black Summer Truffles at the Ferry Building before heading home. Up till then, truffles were one of those ingredients that are too expensive for home cooks, only to be savored in prepared forms – like a butter, salt or infused oil – or scantly shaved over an entreé in a swanky restaurant. Seeing it deployed in the home kitchen by a fellow blogger certainly piqued my interest and I promptly made my way to Far West Fungi to check these esteemed nuggets out for myself.

Montage

Hailing from Italy, these tiny fungi were mildly aromatic and clearly the fruits from the tail-end of the season, but no less fragrant. Despite being widely regarded as a less fragrant (and therefore, cheaper) cousin to the Winter Truffle, they still held your nose with a heady sensuality of musk, earth and chocolate. One whiff was enough to stop me in my tracks, savoring its robust nose through to its final note before seeking the next whiff.

As a fan of simple preparations, I grated these over a side of melted leeks that were first boiled, then sautéed in butter to accompany a perfectly tender piece of filet mignon for our main course. The truffles really brought out the sweetness of the leeks, which clung to each other all wrapped up in a buttery coat. It was a simple accompaniment to a generous filet, and definitely did its job in filling us up without overdoing it. There was, after all, dessert to be had in the shape of Thomas Keller’s Mousse au Chocolat paired with slices of pear poached in ginger syrup.

For appetizers, we had a trio of slow-roasted heirloom tomatoes, a generous heaping of Burrata speckled with salt, pepper and a drizzle of olive oil, and some mixed olives, paired with a glass of Moët (of course!). The tomatoes are among my dinner party staples, the perfect player in a platter of pre-dinner nibbles alongside other hors d’oeuvres. In this instance, they provided the necessary dash of sweetness to complement creamy burrata and briny olives. A slow, extended roasting process coaxes all the tartness out of each slice, producing a wave of naturally sweet, concentrated tomato essence with each bite.

Needless to say, it was the perfect dinner for reminiscing and pinching ourselves that we had been married for two years (!!). The only thing missing was a proper dining table ornamented with a lovely centerpiece, but I’ll leave that for our third (or fourth, or fifth?) anniversary.

Melted Leeks With Black Truffles
The recipe below serves enough for 2 as a side, but you can easily scale the proportions up to feed more if needed to.

1 large leek, or a few small ones, weighing about a pound in total (450 grams)
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, softened
A handful of coarse sea salt
Black truffle

Set a pot of water to boil with the coarse sea salt.

Prepare the leek: preserve the white parts (and some green parts) of the stem, discard the outer layers and rinse the layers well to get rid of any dirt. Chop the stem into 1-inch rounds and toss the leek into the pot when the water starts boiling merrily.

Leave the leeks in the pot for about 10 minutes, or until tender when tested with a fork. The outer layers should appear slightly translucent and swollen with water.

Remove the cubes with a slotted spoon and leave to cool, then half each round vertically.

Melt the butter in a medium pan, then toss in the leeks, moving it around to coat each piece in butter. Sauté until the leeks turn a yellowish green and some pieces start to brown at the edges. Season to taste.

Scoop out on serving plates and grate the truffle over the leeks. Serve immediately.

***

Slow-roasted Tomatoes (Loosely adapted from Thomas Keller’s Bouchon cookbook)
Makes 4 servings as part of an assortment of appetizers

3 to 4 pounds (approximately 1½ to 2 kg) ripe and firm heirloom or vine tomatoes, at least 2 inches in diameter
A handful of fresh thyme sprigs
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon black pepper
3 tablespoons olive oil

Preheat the oven to 350F/ 180C.

To peel the tomatoes, set a pot of hot water to boil, then prepare the tomatoes by coring the tops and making small ‘x’ incisions at the bottom each tomato. Place all the tomatoes into a large, heatproof bowl, then pour the boiled water over them and leave to rest for about 5 minutes.

Remove the tomatoes with a slotted spoon and allow to cool before removing their skins. If the skins don’t peel away easily, return them to the bowl and let them soak for a while longer. (If your tomatoes are very ripe, you might be able to peel their skins while coring and making incisions, skipping the water step entirely).

Half the peeled tomatoes by cutting across horizontally and arrange them, cut-side up, on a lined baking sheet. You could cram all the tomatoes together or space them out, it’s up to you.

Harvest the thyme leaves, then mix them up with the salt and pepper and sprinkle the mixture over the tomatoes. Drizzle with olive oil and place the sheet into the oven.

Bake for at least 2 hours (if your tomatoes are small), up to 4 (for very large tomatoes), until the slices shrivel up and look like wrinkled prunes. If your tomatoes are of different sizes, check in regularly to ensure that the smaller pieces do not burn before the bigger ones are done.

When ready, leave the tomatoes to rest on the pan for at least 10 minutes before removing them with a slotted spatula. Serve warm with crusty bread.

The tomatoes can also be refrigerated in an airtight container (with the juices from the pan) for up to 5 days and can be reheated just before serving. They’re equally tasty warm or cold.

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We barely used one truffle for the leeks, and we paired it with the Burrata for a home-made pizza dinner yesterday, using Peter Reinhart’s pizza dough recipe. Although I’m not at liberty to share that with you because of the BBA Challenge, S over at Chubby Hubby shared her transcribed and annotated version of Reinhart’s recipe, which in my opinion, is the ultimate recipe for pizza dough. Unless you have an Italian nonna to share her tried and tested version with you, Reinhart’s formula is probably the next best thing. Here are some other lip-smacking ideas for making full use of this highly-prized fungus if you happen to find one lying around in your pantry: