Down with Cereal, Part III

 

OK, not really. You’re welcome to your cereal, if that’s your thing. But it’s not mine, and this is the third in a string of posts designed to provide some alternative ideas to the usual breakfast suspects. (See also here and here.) I’ve wanted to make this little breakfast dish for what feels like forever, but I had to bide my time until the relevant parabolic function (quality of tomatoes / price of tomatoes, over time) hit its vertex.

 

Fabulous tomatoes are surely one of the best things about summer. Along with candy-sweet corn, grilled in its husk and then gnawed greedily off the cob with lashings of butter; oh, and big white bowls filled with scarlet, tart, lascivious cherries; also, bunches of basil that smell like licorice might in heaven, perfuming the car on the ride home from the store; not to mention peaches that gush sticky ambrosial juices from the first to last bite, making you wonder why you ever bother to make dessert. And, and, and...

 

But summer produce is practically the only thing I like about summer. Despite growing up in Australia (or perhaps because of it), I recoil from the heat. I hate the cloying aftermath of summer thunderstorms, when I’d hoped for a refreshing cool change (as my Father always says, “beware of the weak cool change.”) I hate the way my long hair sticks to the back of my neck when I cook, and the fact that even the most refined hot supper dish ends up tasting sweaty and soggy and altogether disappointing. I yearn for a chill in my bones and the sense of inward stillness that comes to me with the first snow of the season. I think I have Seasonal Affective Disorder, only in reverse.

My only source of solace is the vat of beautiful roast tomatoes and leeks sitting in my fridge, just waiting to be topped with another egg fried in a smidge of butter. I can’t imagine a better breakfast. Or lunch. Or supper.

 

Roast Tomatoes and Crispy Leeks, with a Fried Egg

 

Ingredients:

 

3lb tomatoes (I used a mixture of heirlooms and romas)

2 – 3 leeks, rinsed and halved lengthwise

Olive oil

Kosher salt

A handful of fresh basil

1 egg

1 teaspoon butter

Freshly ground black pepper

 

Method:

 

Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C).

 

Halve the tomatoes (or cut them into wedges, if they are big).

 

Place the leeks and tomatoes (cut-side up) on lightly oiled baking sheets. Drizzle them with a little olive oil, and give them a good sprinkling of salt.

 

Roast the vegetables (well, fruits and vegetables, but you know what I mean) for about half an hour, until the tomatoes are soft and tinged brown, and the leeks are crispy.

 

Tear little pieces of fresh basil over the tomatoes.

 

Then, add the butter to a small frying pan over medium heat. Add the egg, and baste it with the butter from time to time, until it is fried to the desired degree of doneness. (But I strongly suggest you leave the yolk at least a little runny, if you can.)

 

Serve, with lashings of pepper (if you’ve scrolled through the archives, you’ll notice I prefer not to use pepper in every savory dish. I feel that pepper is a spice, not a seasoning, and should be used with subsequent discretion. But it’s excellent here.)

 

Serves 1 for breakfast, with lots of leftovers for sating tomato cravings.

Comments

[Culinary Cory]

I'm always trying to find new breakfast dishes. This looks simple and I'm sure the roasted tomatoes are amazing with the eggs.

[Pam]

This is my kind of breakfast. I love roasted tomatoes and the egg is cooked perfectly. My mouth is watering.

[brilynn]

I'm all for more interesting breakfasts too and this looks fantastic!

[Julia]

I'm with you; cereal is not my thing. This looks delicious and could easily be made for any meal. Beautiful picture, by the way.

[Kate]

Thanks, y'all! I'm glad I'm not the only cereal-shirker in the food blogosphere! Maybe we should have a cereal-free breakfast recipe exchange sometime.

[Stacey Snacks]

I love summers in NJ.
Beaches, produce, sunshine, flowers. Hate winter, and I hate breakfast!
I like your posts about alternatives to cereal. I will try it your way!