Mediterranean Flatbread for #SundaySupper

You can never have too many main course recipes, so give Mediterranean Flatbread for #SundaySupper a try. This recipe makes 2 servings with 731 calories, 17g of protein, and 57g of fat each. For $4.6 per serving, this recipe covers 22% of your daily requirements of vitamins and minerals. 68 people have tried and liked this recipe. If you have kalamatan olives, red bell pepper, red wine vinegar, and a few other ingredients on hand, you can make it. From preparation to the plate, this recipe takes roughly 20 minutes. It is brought to you by Magnolia Days. It is a good option if you're following a lacto ovo vegetarian diet. All things considered, we decided this recipe deserves a spoonacular score of 73%. This score is solid. Turkey Cranberry Flatbread #SundaySupper, Mediterranean Flatbread, and Mediterranean Flatbread are very similar to this recipe.

Servings: 2

Preparation duration: 8 minutes

Cooking duration: 12 minutes

 

Ingredients:

½ cup basil pesto

1 tablespoon capers

4 ounces crumbled feta cheese

1 garlic clove, minced

3 ounces sliced kalamata olives

6 ounces marinated artichoke hearts, drained

1 tablespoon olive oil

¼ cup thinly sliced red bell pepper

¼ cup thinly sliced red onion

1 teaspoon red wine vinegar

2 pre-made flatbreads (such as Flatout)

Equipment:

oven

baking sheet

bowl

Cooking instruction summary:

Preheat oven to 375F.Place flatbreads on a baking sheet. Bake for 2 minutes.Spread pesto on flatbreads leaving a inch border.Place artichoke hearts, bell pepper, onion, olives, capers, and garlic in a medium bowl. Drizzle olive oil and vinegar on top.Gently toss to combine. Place vegetable mixture evenly on flatbreads.Sprinkle cheese on top of flatbreads.Bake for 7 to 11 minutes, or until vegetables and cheese slightly softens.Cut flatbreads into slices. Serve immediately.

 

Step by step:


1. Preheat oven to 375F.

2. Place flatbreads on a baking sheet.

3. Bake for 2 minutes.

4. Spread pesto on flatbreads leaving a inch border.

5. Place artichoke hearts, bell pepper, onion, olives, capers, and garlic in a medium bowl.

6. Drizzle olive oil and vinegar on top.Gently toss to combine.

7. Place vegetable mixture evenly on flatbreads.Sprinkle cheese on top of flatbreads.

8. Bake for 7 to 11 minutes, or until vegetables and cheese slightly softens.

9. Cut flatbreads into slices.

10. Serve immediately.


Nutrition Information:

Quickview
730k Calories
16g Protein
57g Total Fat
38g Carbs
16% Health Score
Limit These
Calories
730k
37%

Fat
57g
88%

  Saturated Fat
15g
96%

Carbohydrates
38g
13%

  Sugar
7g
8%

Cholesterol
55mg
18%

Sodium
2487mg
108%

Get Enough Of These
Protein
16g
34%

Vitamin A
3096IU
62%

Vitamin C
43mg
53%

Calcium
434mg
43%

Manganese
0.79mg
39%

Selenium
26µg
38%

Vitamin B2
0.54mg
32%

Fiber
7g
32%

Phosphorus
278mg
28%

Vitamin B6
0.46mg
23%

Vitamin E
3mg
22%

Vitamin B1
0.25mg
17%

Iron
3mg
17%

Vitamin B12
0.96µg
16%

Zinc
2mg
16%

Magnesium
49mg
12%

Folate
46µg
12%

Copper
0.22mg
11%

Vitamin B3
2mg
10%

Vitamin B5
0.98mg
10%

Vitamin K
8µg
8%

Potassium
198mg
6%

Vitamin D
0.23µg
2%

covered percent of daily need
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Food Trivia

Cooking food is one of the great revolutionary innovations of history because it not only transformed the way we prepare food, but because it also became a center of cultural communion and organized society.

Food Joke

I tried not to be biased in hiring a handicapped person, but his placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy. I had never had a mentally-handicapped employee, and I wasn't sure I wanted one. I wasn't sure how my customers would react to Stevie. He was short, a little dumpy, and had the smooth facial features and thick-tongued speech of Down Syndrome. I wasn't worried about most of my trucker customers because truckers don't generally care who buses tables as long as the meatloaf platter is good and the pies are homemade. The four-wheeler drivers were the ones who concerned me; the mouthy college kids traveling to school; the yuppie snobs who secretly polish their silverware with their napkins for fear of catching some dreaded "truck stop germ;" the pairs of white-shirted business men on expense accounts who think every truck stop waitress wants to be flirted with. I knew those people would be uncomfortable around Stevie so I closely watched him for the first few weeks. I shouldn't have worried. After the first week, Stevie had my staff wrapped around his stubby little finger, and within a month my truck regulars had adopted him as their official truck stop mascot. After that, I really didn't care what the rest of the customers thought of him. He was like a 21-year-old in blue jeans and Nikes, eager to laugh and eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties. Every salt and pepper shaker was exactly in its place, not a bread crumb or coffee spill was visible when Stevie got done with the table. Our only problem was convincing him to wait to clean a table until after the customers were finished. He would hover in the background, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, scanning the dining room until a table was empty. Then he would scurry to the empty table and carefully bus the dishes and glasses onto a cart and meticulously wipe the table up with a practiced flourish of his rag. If he thought a customer was watching, his brow would pucker with added concentration. He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and you had to love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met. Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was disabled after repeated surgeries for cancer. They lived on their Social Security benefits in public housing two miles from the truck stop. Their social worker, who stopped to check on him every so often, admitted they had fallen between the cracks. Money was tight, and what I paid him was probably the difference between them being able to live together and Stevie being sent to a group home. That's why the restaurant was a gloomy place that morning last August, the first morning in three years that Stevie had missed work. He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a new valve or something put in his heart. His social worker said that people with Down Syndrome often had heart problems at an early age so this wasn't unexpected, and there was a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be back at work in a few months. A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when word came that he was out of surgery, in recovery and doing fine. Frannie, my head waitress, let out a war whoop and did a little dance in the aisle when she heard the good news. Belle Ringer, one of our regular trucker customers, stared at the sight of the 50-year-old grandmother of four doing a victory shimmy beside his table. Frannie blushed, smoothed her apron and shot Belle Ringer a withering look. He grinned. "OK, Frannie, what was that all about?" he asked. "We just got word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be okay." "I was wondering where he was. I had a new joke to tell him. What was the surgery about?" Frannie quickly told Belle Ringer and the other two drivers sitting at his booth about Stevie's surgery, then sighed. "Yeah, I'm glad he is going to be OK," she said, "but I don't know how he and his mom are going to handle all the bills. From what I hear, they're barely getti.

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