Here's something to ponder: who's crazier? Someone who wants to run a triathlon at the crack of dawn in a remote part of the Bay Area, or someone who agrees to get up just as early and cook breakfast for that person? No, wait. Don't answer.
A lot of my co-workers have unhealthy attitudes about exercise; they actually enjoy it. My manager, in fact, is a world-class triathlete. Last year, she convinced other folks in the office to race a noncompetitive "baby" triathlon. The crowd grew steadily, and I found myself surrounded by eager new triathletes, preaching zealously to the skeptics. They put on the pressure, but I refused to give in. Finally, I negotiated a compromise: I offered breakfast for the racers and their friends. Thus was born the Tri For Fun (there's an oxymoron for you) Edusoft Breakfast, which happened a second time this weekend and is therefore a tradition.
I plan food for this event that can be made ahead; the park lacks cooking facilities and it's way early in the morning. Some last-minute work is okay, and this year two of my co-workers offered to bring their own knives and help out, which meant we had everything finished and could still enjoy watching our manager seemingly stroll to the finish line, well ahead of every other racer.
When I mentioned at work prior to the race that I was going to essentially repeat last year's menu, there were murmurs of happiness. More than a year later, my co-workers remembered that menu better than I did. You made gravlax and brioche to enjoy with a triple-creme cheese? Yes. Are you doing that really good lime-ginger sauce for the fruit salad again? Yes. You're making coffee cake again? Yes (but this year it was blackberry and lemon; Scharffen Berger no longer makes the chocolate chunks which were crucial to last year's chocolate coffee cake).
Everyone was nonethless curious about my new addition: a caprese terrine. Caprese salad is that well-known combination of tomato slices, mozarella rounds, and basil. Hillel alluded to a terrine version once on tastingmenu.com, and I was intrigued. I asked him if he had photos of it, but he didn't. Instead, he sent me to an LA Times article that offered one recipe, which looked more or less as I had imagined, though theirs uses gelatin and I had to make ours vegetarian. The process is pretty simple (see below). My layers still slipped around a bit (I used Winnie's picture from before the slices started falling apart), but I was happy with the flavor.
Lest we run out of food, my assistants and I also used a camping stove to make scrambled eggs. Last year I ran out of propane and no one got any eggs except Melissa and me, who ate omelettes for dinner that night. But this time we were all set. People happily replenished the calories they had burned off, and I think everyone took naps that afternoon (except for my manager, who biked 70 miles to Berkeley and ran around Tilden Park, and her fiancé, who went along to provide support; I'm surprised she opted not to swim back to San Francisco). Everyone was happy with our breakfast, but I have seen my ambition for next year. Soon after we arrived, a group of people wheeled in a smoker made of two oil drums. I suspect they were getting set up for something that afternoon, but I was green with jealousy as the smoke and smells of cooking meat enveloped our modest table. I've got to figure out how to do something similar next year!
Caprese Terrine
Two nights before you want to serve the terrine: Buy a bunch of really juicy tomatoes, and smash them with a Kitchen-Aid and its paddle attachment. Put the tomatoes into a cheesecloth-lined colander over a container of some form. Bring up the corners of the cheesecloth, tie them into a knot, and put a wooden spoon underneath the knot. Hang the little sack over your container (you can leave the colander there if you want), and let sit overnight, massaging the cheesecloth bag periodically to get more juice out.
The night before you want to serve the terrine, line a terrine mold (or loaf pan) with plastic wrap, leaving some hanging over the edges. Heat up your tomato water with 2-3 tsp. agar agar (a vegetarian gelatin substitute) per 2 cups tomato water. Keep at a simmer for 3 minutes, and let cool. Lay basil leaves along the bottom of the terrine mold in some sort of pretty pattern. Pour a little tomato water mixture over the bottom until the basil leaves are just covered. Lay tomato slices down, then another little bit of tomato water mixture, then mozzarella slices, more tomato water, and another layer of basil leaves. Repeat until finished, and finish with a layer of tomato slices. Dump the rest of the tomato water mixture over the layers. Lay the edges of the plastic wrap over the top of the terrine, and put a board, cut to fit the terrine mold, over the plastic wrap. Put a little weight on it (a couple cans of chicken stock, perhaps).
To serve, remove the weight and board, pull the plastic wrap off the top, and flip over onto a platter so that the top of the terrine is now the bottom. Remove the terrine mold, and undo the plastic wrap. Slice (carefully!) and serve.