Search

Baking the Book, Delivered Fresh From My Oven to Your Inbox!

Friday, July 13, 2018

Roasted Tomato Garlic Tart



I think we can all agree that summer is pretty fantastic time of year. The days seem endless and pretty much everyone looks just a little bit better -and thank god for that. But do you want to know what my favorite part is? The produce.

Think about it. Biting into a fresh, juicy summer peach (cue Call Me By Your Name flashback). Nibbling on that sweet, refreshing watermelon and letting the juices run down your chin. Sweet and smoky corn just kissed by the heat of the grill. Pretty f**king good, no?

So, what to do when you have the best of the best at your fingertips? Make the best of it, of course. And since tomatoes tend to be the absolute worst when out of season, pale, mealy & flavorless, like your last bad date, they are also one of the greatest gems of summer. And while you can certainly eat them simply sliced, drizzled with olive oil & sprinkled with salt, I have an idea for you, a gentle suggestion. A roasted tomato garlic tart.

The tomatoes become rich and caramelised from the heat of the oven, and the mixture that holds it in place is unctuous & tangy with hits of herbaceous freshness from the thyme. It's ideal served with a bright green salad for dinner or munched on for breakfast with a few slices of streaky bacon. No matter the day, no matter the time, a slice of this is never a bad idea.

Roasted Tomato Garlic Tart
Adapted from Bon Appétit
Originally posted on gloobles
1 kilo mixed colour tomatoes, seeds scraped out and cut into slices
3 tablespoons good olive oil
3/4 teaspoon Himalayan pink salt
Freshly cracked black pepper
115 grams cultured, unsalted butter
6 large cloves garlic, smashed and skin removed
250 oatcakes, finely ground in a food processor
2 large eggs
300 grams Taleggio, rind removed and coarsely grated
70 grams Parmesan, coarsely grated
1/2 cup mayonnaise (we like Duke's or Kewpie, if you can find them)
1 bunch lemon thyme, leaves stripped from stems

Preheat oven to 250 with a rack positioned in the middle of the oven. Arrange tomatoes in a roasting pan, drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with 1/4 teaspoon salt and pepper. Roast for 25 minutes until the tops start to dry out a bit. Remove from the oven to cool. Reduce oven to 190.

While these roast, place butter and smashed garlic in a small saucepan set over low heat. Cook, swirling occasionally, until butter begins to foam and the butter takes on a light golden colour. Be careful not to let the garlic burn! Strain garlic butter through a fine mesh sieve into the food processor with oatcake crumbs, setting the crispy, golden cloves aside for later.

Add the eggs to the food processor with the oatcake crumbs and garlic butter. Add a 1/4 teaspoon salt and pulse to combine until mixture looks like wet sand. Press into a 23 cm fluted tart pan. Bake for 8 minutes until it starts to take on colour. Let cool.

In the meantime, mix together Taleggio, Parmesan, mayonnaise, pepper and thyme. Dollop half of mixture into the tart pan and spread to the edges. Layer half of cooled tomatoes over top. Repeat with remaining cheese mixture and tomatoes. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with salt. Bake for 50-60 minutes, until the filling is bubbling and crust is browned. Allow to cool and sprinkle with thyme leaves for colour. 

Sunday, March 20, 2016

Coconut Blondies



I think the Secretary Spread is setting in. While my LinkedIn will eagerly offer up a flashier title, I am, essentially, a glorified secretary. Now with that high-powered, oft-envied position comes a whole host of side effects.

Carpal tunnel syndrome from fervently clicking away from Vice and back to Bloomberg whenever a colleague comes near me. A hunchback so pronounced I'll be fending off Esmerelda's advances for the foreseeable future. A serious case of 4:00 o'clock ennui. And, thanks to my subsequent 4:00 o'clock croissant run, the dreaded Secretary Spread.



By no means am I left sheepishly asking the flight attendant for a seatbelt extender just yet, but I've finally resigned myself to the fact that I might need to cut back. If just a little.

That's where these blondies come in. They're fudgy with a deep toffee flavor, and they're rich enough that you really won't notice they're lightened up. They're an evolved version of those three-ingredient peanut butter cookies that have been floating around the internet for some time now, which means they're quick to whip up and have a short ingredient list.



Coconut Blondies
Makes 12 bars

1/2 cup almond butter
1/2 cup cashew butter
2 large eggs, at room temperature
1/2 cup coconut sugar
1/4 cup shredded coconut, plus more for sprinkling if desired
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon Himalayan salt
Beans scraped from one vanilla pod
1/3 cup roughly chopped dark chocolate
Fleur de sel, for sprinkling

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line a 9-inch loaf pan with parchment paper. In the bowl of a stand mixer, beat together almond butter, cashew butter, eggs, and coconut sugar until smooth and cohesive. Add shredded coconut, baking powder, salt, and vanilla beans. Beat to combine until dough forms a ball. Spread into prepared baking sheet. Scatter chocolate and extra shredded coconut over the top. Sprinkle with fleur de sel. Bake for 20 minutes, until risen and a knife inserted in the center comes out clean.

More Blondie Recipes
Olive Oil Blondies with Chocolate Frosting
Infinitely Adaptable Blondies
Peanut Butter and Jelly Bars

Saturday, February 27, 2016

Banana Cashew Bread


It's suddenly dawned on me that I'm really fucking old. Not old in the grand scheme of things. But old enough. You know what I mean?

I swear I can see crow's feet sweeping inelegantly at the corners of my eyes. I'm starting to lose my grasp on what is and is not cool. It took me two weeks longer than everyone else on the planet to understand what the hell the key emoji meant. I barely even understand some of my friends when they speak. I might as well make Urban Dictionary my homepage.

And with old age, comes nostalgia. I remember fonder times when I was quite literally the only 13-year old left without a cellphone. I relish the sweet memory of being IDed (I mean, seriously, do I look that old?). I happily stew in this golden reflection because surely my geriatric state will soon leave me without any memories at all.


Spring 2005 is a memory I hold particularly dear. Picture me, swaddled in the velour embrace of a Juicy Couture tracksuit threatening to slide off my prepubescent hips. Imagine me, frantically flipping open my Nokia brick in the hopes that someone, anyone had texted me. And envisage me, bumpin and grindin to sweet, sweet sounds of Hollaback Girl at the sickest Bar Mitzvah of the season.

That shit was bananas. And this bread? Well, it's also bananas. And it will certainly have you mentally teleporting back to your own gaucho-wearing, collar-popping, iPod Nano-wielding 2005.



Banana Cashew Bread
Makes 1 loaf

5 very ripe bananas, 4 roughly mashed and 1 sliced into coins
4 large eggs, lightly beaten
1/4 cup cashew butter
4 tablespoons melted coconut oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup chestnut flour
1/2 cup coconut flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
Pinch Himalayan salt
6 ounces dark chocolate, roughly chopped
Coconut sugar, for sprinkling

Preheat oven to 350. Lightly grease a 9x5 loaf pan with coconut oil. In a large bowl using a hand mixer, beat together bananas, eggs, cashew butter, coconut oil, and vanilla extract. In a separate bowl, whisk together chestnut flour, coconut flour, baking soda, and baking powder. Add dry ingredients to wet and beat to combine. Fold in chocolate. Pour into prepared baking tin. Sprinkle coconut sugar over top. Arrange banana coins down the center of the loaf. Bake for 40 minutes until golden brown and a knife inserted comes out clean. Allow to cool.