Thursday, June 30, 2011

When ceramic breaks, crack out the grates


A cracked cook top does not a meal make.  Or at least, it doesn’t bloody well make the meal you want.  Seriously.  Try making spaghetti and homemade sauce in a time-efficient manner when you only have one element to work with.

Bit of background here: I love my ceramic cook top.  The halogen elements deliver close-to-gas rapidity of heat deliverance, but without the guilt of burning fossil fuels, or having to deal with the additional kitchen exhaust, which can only be scraped off the cupboards with a metal blade, a strong de-greaser, and a bushel of well placed cuss words.  You may private message me for some of my personal favourites.

Up above the shining black ceramic sea of cookery happinesses, above the gleam of the control dials, the blink of the LED clock, and the ever-beckoning allure of the Self-Clean button, I would store my salt and pepper.  The former in a green ceramic cube with rounded edges obtained in the curious French Protectorate of St. Pierre, the latter in a sturdy brass Turkish pepper mill, proudly haggled for in the Egyptian Spice Market in Istanbul.

As ornaments they are lovely. 

As functioning parts of the machine of my kitchen they are integral.

As weapons of ceramic-shattering mass destruction they are unparalleled.

And so it was on that fateful day when, like the mighty walls of Jericho (or undergarments of any number of celebrities), a-tumblin down came the army of vessels.  Like an assault of kamikaze condiments.

Perhaps I’m giving my S&P too much credit.  It may not have been a malicious act, but rather a suicide of seasonings.  Either way, it broke my damned range!

So this weeks post takes advantage of two of my new best friends: the oven and the barbeque.

Smoked Sundried Tomatoes

I started out with 4 plastic clamshell containers of on-the-vine grape tomatoes.  Next, I plunged a skewer through each one to allow moisture to escape without the tomatoes having to explode to do so.


Lay ‘em out on a sheet, which will allow for maximum air flow (note the broiler trays in the photo), and pop them into an oven at 200° or slightly less.  Ignore for about an hour.  They should be somewhat collapsed at this point.  You can rotate them and continue for another hour or so, but I preferred to smoke them first, as there will be a certain level of further collapsing/caramelizing/drying they will do on the bbq.  You want the tomatoes to be soft and somewhat chewy.  Not crispy.

Prepare a smoke box for the BBQ.  If you don’t have a premade fancy one, just watch what this guy does.  Honestly, it works better than most of the commercial variants available.   


Once prepared, place the smoke box under the cooking grate, as close as possible to the burner you are using.  Turn the burner on med-high, and when the chips start to smoke (5-15 minutes) reduce the heat, and place the tomatoes (still on the sheets) on the surface of the bbq AWAY from the heat.  You want to capture the smoke indirectly, not cook the tomatoes further.

I let them hang out for about 4-6 hours.  Check on them every hour or so.  Not too, often, because every time you open the lid you lose all the smoke.  Rotate them on the sheets during your hourly visitations, and remove the ones that seem done.

If you feel they’ve absorbed enough of the smoke flavour, but still want them a bit drier, return them to the 200° oven until they conform to your textural expectations. 

If not eating immediately, place in jars, pour in vegetable or sunflower oil to cover, and pop into the fridge.  Don’t use olive oil, as it has enough of its own flavour that it will defeat the sweet smokiness you’ve instilled in the tomatoes.

I initially had these while at Terre a Terre restaurant in Brighton.  They used large tomatoes, and I don’t see why you couldn’t do the same.  They would be amazing in a sandwich in place of meat.  I just wanted something that could be served as a little vegan-friendly alternative to charcuterie at a recent gathering.  

Smoked tomatoes at right.  Photo courtesy of Manuela Tiefenbach

Since I’m all about giving credit where credit is due, I have to say my attempt at these isn’t as good as the ones Terre a Terre makes, but they’re still pretty incredible.  That tells you just how good theirs are!

Now here’s something you don’t hear often anymore: Everyone go start smoking!!!

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