Caprese Tartlets

Caprese Tartlets takes about 25 minutes from beginning to end. Watching your figure? This lacto ovo vegetarian recipe has 206 calories, 6g of protein, and 13g of fat per serving. This recipe serves 8. For 68 cents per serving, this recipe covers 6% of your daily requirements of vitamins and minerals. 3094 people were glad they tried this recipe. It is brought to you by Taste and Tell Blog. A mixture of balsamic vinegar, fresh mozzarella, roma tomatoes, and a handful of other ingredients are all it takes to make this recipe so tasty. It works well as a very reasonably priced hor d'oeuvre. With a spoonacular score of 37%, this dish is not so awesome. If you like this recipe, you might also like recipes such as Insalata caprese all’americana (American-Style Caprese Salad), bread tartlets , quick bread tartlets with potato cheese, and Baklava Tartlets.

Servings: 8

 

Ingredients:

balsamic vinegar, for drizzling

8 fresh basil leavesPreheat the oven to 375F.

3 tablespoons cream cheese, softened

1 teaspoon dried basil

4 ounces fresh mozzarella, thinly sliced

1 teaspoon garlic powder

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil

2 Roma tomatoes, thinly sliced

salt and pepper

8 slices white bread

Equipment:

oven

rolling pin

muffin tray

bowl

Cooking instruction summary:

Preheat the oven to 375F.Remove the crusts from the bread. Using a rolling pin, flatten each slice of bread. Brush both sides with olive oil and press into a muffin tin. (Tip: cut a small slit diagonally down one corner to make it easy to fit into the cup.) Set aside.In a small bowl, combine the cream cheese with the garlic powder, dried basil, salt and pepper. Mix together until smooth and creamy. Drop about a teaspoon into each cup. Bake the tartlets in the preheated oven until browned, about 12-13 minutes.Remove from the oven and place a slice of mozzarella in each cup. (I returned mine to the oven again for a minute or two to soften and melt the mozzarella slightly.) Top with a tomato. Drizzle with balsamic vinegar and a small drizzle of remaining olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Chiffonade the basil for garnish. Serve warm

 

Step by step:


1. Preheat the oven to 375F.

2. Remove the crusts from the bread. Using a rolling pin, flatten each slice of bread.

3. Brush both sides with olive oil and press into a muffin tin. (Tip: cut a small slit diagonally down one corner to make it easy to fit into the cup.) Set aside.In a small bowl, combine the cream cheese with the garlic powder, dried basil, salt and pepper.

4. Mix together until smooth and creamy. Drop about a teaspoon into each cup.

5. Bake the tartlets in the preheated oven until browned, about 12-13 minutes.

6. Remove from the oven and place a slice of mozzarella in each cup. (I returned mine to the oven again for a minute or two to soften and melt the mozzarella slightly.) Top with a tomato.

7. Drizzle with balsamic vinegar and a small drizzle of remaining olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Chiffonade the basil for garnish.

8. Serve warm


Nutrition Information:

Quickview
205k Calories
6g Protein
12g Total Fat
16g Carbs
2% Health Score
Limit These
Calories
205k
10%

Fat
12g
19%

  Saturated Fat
4g
25%

Carbohydrates
16g
5%

  Sugar
4g
5%

Cholesterol
17mg
6%

Sodium
427mg
19%

Get Enough Of These
Protein
6g
12%

Calcium
151mg
15%

Selenium
8µg
12%

Manganese
0.21mg
11%

Vitamin B1
0.15mg
10%

Vitamin K
9µg
9%

Phosphorus
90mg
9%

Folate
32µg
8%

Vitamin E
1mg
8%

Iron
1mg
7%

Vitamin B2
0.11mg
7%

Vitamin B3
1mg
7%

Vitamin A
320IU
6%

Vitamin B12
0.34µg
6%

Zinc
0.71mg
5%

Fiber
0.95g
4%

Magnesium
14mg
4%

Potassium
110mg
3%

Vitamin C
2mg
3%

Copper
0.05mg
3%

Vitamin B6
0.05mg
2%

Vitamin B5
0.2mg
2%

covered percent of daily need
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Death row inmates in Texas don't get to pick their last meal.

Food Joke

Calling in Sick... A Cat Owner's Story Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable because no matter how legitimate my illness, I always sense my boss thinks I am lying. On one occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway because the truth was too humiliating to reveal. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on my crown. In this case, the truth hurt. I mean it really hurt in the place men feel the most pain. The accident occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. As the daily routine prescribes, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife call out to me from the kitchen. "Ed!" she hearkened. "The garbage disposal is dead. Come reset it." "You know where the button is." I protested through the shower . "Reset it yourself!" "I am scared!" She pleaded. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?" Pause. "C'mon, it'll only take a second." No logical assurance about how a disposal can't start itself will calm the fears of a person who suffers from "Big-ol-scary-machinephobia," a condition brought on by watching too many Stephen King movies. It is futile to argue or explain, kind of like Lloyd Bentsen telling Americans they are over-taxed. And if a poltergeist did, in fact, possess the disposal, and she was ground into round, I'd have to live with that the rest of my life. So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement about how her cowardly behavior was not without consequence but it was I who would suffer. I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing. It struck without warning. Nay, it wasn't a hexed disposal drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the dangling objects she spied between my legs. She ("Buttons" aka "the Grater") had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I took the bait under the sink. At precisely the second I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws. Now when men feel pain or even sense danger anywhere close to their masculine region, they lose all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements. Instinctively, their nerves compel the body to contort inwardly, while rising upwardly at a violent rate of speed. Not even a well-trained monk could calmly stand with his groin supporting the full weight of a kitten and rectify the situation in a step-by-step procedure. Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome; men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. Fleeing straight up, I knew at that moment how a cat feels when it is alarmed. It was a dismal irony. But, whereas cats seek great heights to escape, I never made it that far. The sink and cabinet bluntly impeded my ascent; the impact knocked me out cold. When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they tried to conduct their work while suppressing their hysterical laughter. My wife told me I should be flattered. At the office, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" If they had only known.

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