Patience is a virtue. Especially if you’re a recipe trying to get posted around here.
These poor scones have been waiting in the wings to get their 15 minutes of fame for so long I have wholly forgotten what I had on my mind when the idea of tomato scones suddenly gripped me. I have a suspicion that it gripped me as I was reading labels in the tomato purée aisle at the grocery store. I do love to read a good label. If those pesky food manufacturers weren’t so sneaky so much of the time I would never get my label-reading fix; but only because I wouldn’t have to. The good news is that once we’ve figured out what’s the good stuff from the pile of manufactured I-don’t-know-what, we’re in the home straight. Next time we know exactly which brand to buy. The downside to not having to check the contents of every can and jar is that had I not been loitering in the tomato purée aisle for all that time reading labels I may well have not been gripped by tomato scone fever; and that would have been an awful shame. Having to loiter over labels does provide opportunities.
I have ideas pop into my head in the strangest of places and at the oddest moments – which accounts for the 134 draft blog posts I have awaiting my attention. It also explains why – once I have perfected a new recipe for you – I rarely make it again. I’m on an unyielding quest to create new *SANE scrumptiousness to bewitch and captivate your taste buds – like an over-excited kitchen elf in a cocoa-stained white apron buzzing around with a whisk and a blender and more measuring spoons than should be allowed without a licence. Jonathan may be the traditional studious, serious and sensible scientist, while I’m the mad, happy one – hopping from one exhilarating experiment to the next, ever curious to see how tasty I can make something that doesn’t have anything in it.
These scones definitely have something in them. Tomatoes. Bunches of ‘em. If you like tomatoes, these biscuits will knock your socks right off. If tomatoes are not really your thing, I suggest you move right along to the next recipe. These orangey-hued beauties pack an intense punch with their chunks of sun-dried tomatoes punctuated with little bursts of basil. They are not for the faint-hearted. These are not delicate, pretty little scones. They’re chunky, rustic, manly scones, with almost more tomato than scone.
I remember being on somewhat of a tomato kick when I made them, gobbling them up alongside my Times Two Tomato Soup (coming soon!). That was one crazy tomato-fest right there. If you’re craving some juicy summer tomato goodness in the middle of winter, give these a try. You’ll be deep in tomato heaven.
- 9 oz / 250g almond flour / ground almonds (NOT almond meal)
- ½ tsp salt
- 4 tsp baking powder
- 1 tsp xanthan gum
- 3 tsp dried basil
- 2 oz / 55g butter
- 2 oz / 55g sun-dried tomatoes, pre-soaked in hot water to soften, and then chopped
- ⅓ cup / 3 fl oz. unsweetened thin coconut milk
- Beaten egg to glaze
- Heat oven to 400 F.
- Put the almond flour, other dry ingredients, basil and butter in a food processor and pulse until it resembles fine breadcrumbs. You can also do this by hand if that's your thing.
- Turn into a bowl and mix in the sun-dried tomatoes until evenly distributed.
- Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and pour in the milk.
- Mix by hand to form a dough.
- Knead the dough lightly until smooth.
- Divide dough into 8 x 2 oz pieces of dough.
- Roll each piece in your hands to make a ball, please on baking sheet and flatten gently to resemble a cookie.
- Brush tops with beaten egg.
- Bake for 10 minutes until golden brown.
- Carefully use a serrated knife to cut open, especially if they are still warm, as they are quite fragile.