Ooey, gooey, melty cheese. Salty bacon.

Briny olives and sweet sundried tomatoes. The earthy sharp scent of oregano and basil.

Pillowy soft nuggets of buttery bread, gently coaxed off a warm loaf. Heaven.

My friends, I promise you that I’m not spouting hyperbole when I say that this is the best thing I have ever baked. Ever. Bar none. If I had eight hungry friends at our house every weekend (as opposed to every second weekend), this would easily become my pièce de resistance; that recipe I was known for, the one that my near and dear would wax poetic over while thwarted lovers thrashed in the night, dreaming of what might have been. Yes, this bread is THAT GOOD.

I think this bread might cure cancer. There’s no empirical evidence yet, but let’s just wait and see.

If this bread was a band, I would don a mini-skirt and become a groupie with purple hair and a drooling over bite.

This is Obama-bread . It is the cure to all things, and it bridges all gaps (which I can totally say, because I’m Canadian, eh. We’ll let you fight it out south of the border).

If this bread was a movie star it would be George Clooney. We would all swoon against our wills, with tepid mutterings about how this can’t possibly be a healthy relationship, as we sidle just a little bit closer and lean in nice and deep.

PS – this bread loves a tight V-neck sweater.

I think it’s official, and I am ready to ask you, plaintively, that if you just decide to make one thing from our site, let it be this. If there is even one recipe that compels you beyond all others, tab away from it and focus on this. I promise you, this is the bread of champions. This is the bread that wins hearts and steels the souls of the damned. This is the bread that I would make each and every day for the rest of my life if I didn’t have such a desperate fear of gout. In short, this is THE BREAD. Make this bread. Share this bread. Eat this bread.

Bread.

Bocconcini Stuffed Mediterranean Bacon Pull Aparts

Makes 1 large loaf, perfect for sharing

1 tbsp active dry yeast

12 tbsp unsalted butter, divided

4 tsp sugar

1.5 cups warm water

1 egg

3.5 cups flour

2 tsp kosher salt

2 tbsp dried oregano, divided

2.5 tsp dried basil, divided

1 tsp garlic powder *

8-10 oil packed sundried tomatoes (1/3 cup chopped) **

12-16 kalamata olives (1/3 cup chopped)

1 bunch green onions, about 6 (1 cup chopped and loosely packed)

1/2 lb bacon

1.5 cups dry grated parmesan cheese ***

1/2 tsp red chili powder

1 tub (200 g or 36 pieces) mini bocconcini ****

*If you have garlic salt rather than garlic powder, reduce the salt in the dough by 1/4 tsp.

** If you do not have oil packed sundried tomatoes, rehydrate them by putting the halves in a small bowl and adding just enough boiling water to cover them. Let the tomatoes sit for 15-20 minutes, or until they are tender.

*** This is one of those times when it is absolutely okay to buy the can of pre-grated parmesan cheese from the dry goods section of your grocery store. However, if you can get “fresh” pre-grated parmesan, which is nice and crumbly but without the whole processed foods embarrassment, that is even better. What you don’t want to do is grate the fresh cheese yourself because, frankly, that’s a waste of money. Your lovely Parmigiana Reggiano is perfect for adorning pasta and adding rich, salty flair to salads and flatbreads. However, the longer strings of grated parmesan will not adhere properly to the dough balls, nor will they firm up in a respectable way without browning and eventually burning.

**** No mini bocconcini? You can use fresh mozzarella cut into cubes about the size of your thumb. Huh. That’s assuming that your thumb is the same size as the thumb on my potato picking paws. If you have piano fingers, opt for just slightly larger than a nickle.

Melt five (5) tbsp of butter and let it cool until it is just warm to the touch. I do this by putting the butter in my microwave for 35 seconds, stirring to melt any bits that are still firm, and giving it just a minute or two to cool. In a medium sized bowl spoon in the sugar and yeast. Pour the warm (not hot) water over top and add the egg. Whisk this together until it is combined and slightly frothy before whisking in the butter. Let the mixture stand.

After about 5-7 minutes the yeast mixture should be frothy and have a fairly thick (about 1/2 inch) pale brown foam on top. Yay yeast! If this hasn’t happened, unfortunately it means that your yeast is no longer active (either due to age or poor storage) and you will need to start again with fresh yeast.

Put the flour and salt into a large bowl along with one (1) tablespoon of oregano and one and a half (1.5) teaspoons of dried basil. Pour the buttery yeast mixture over top.

Stir until it comes together as a dough and then knead the ball in the bowl for about a minute. Basically you just want to turn it over and around a few times, activating the gluten, and then let it rest. Cover the bowl with a clean tea towel and put it in a warm and draft free spot to rise for about an hour and a half.

Slice each rasher of bacon in half and then dice into chunks. Put the bacon into a non-stick skillet over medium heat and fry the bacon until it is cooked through, slightly browned, and the fat is neatly rendered out.

Drain the fat from the bacon and strain the grease straight into a small bowl. Melt the remaining seven (7) tablespoons of butter into the bacon fat.

Put the reserved bacon into a second bowl. Pit the kalamata olives and give them a good chop. Do the same with the sundried tomatoes and green onions. Stir these fine friends together.

In a third bowl place the parmesan cheese, chili powder, garlic powder, remaining one (1) tablespoon of oregano and one (1) teaspoon of basil. Stir this together.

When the dough has doubled in size it is ready to use. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface and start rolling it into a long cylinder. Cut the roll of dough into quarters, and cut each quarter into slices until you have 36 pieces. If math is not your strong suit, that means making 8 cuts into each for a total of 9 pieces per quarter. Or cut more, I’m not one to judge. Just be sure that you have an equal ratio of dough slices to bocconcini balls, because can you imagine being the person to get the ONE DOUGH BALL that was left behind? If I was your friend, I would never forgive you. Seriously. Withholding cheese from me may mean a grudge that could never be overcome.

Pat each slice into a sort of flat, round shape. Tuck one mini bocconcini into the center of each one and pinch the dough around it to make a seal. Roll the ball between your palms a few times to make it nice and round.

Sprinkle one quarter (1/4) of the bacon and olive mixture into the bottom of a large, ungreased bundt pan. Take a dough ball and roll it in the butter to get it nice and lubed up before rolling it around in the spiced cheese mixture. Put the sauced and spiced ball into the bottom of your pan and repeat with another eight balls (spaced about 1/4″ apart) or until the bottom of the ring is just covered.

Sprinkle some of the bacon and olive mixture over top. Repeat this process with the remaining dough, sprinkling the savoury mixture on top every 10-12 balls or so. In terms of layering, this should end up being:

bacon/tomato/olives/green onion first layer dough balls bacon/tomato/olives/green onion second layer dough balls bacon/tomato/olives/green onion third layer dough balls

Drizzle any remaining butter mixture on top (there should be about a tablespoon), disperse the last of your bacon mixture, and sprinkle any remaining parmesan on the whole lot (there should be a scant 1/4 cup).

Put a tea towel on top of the bundt pan and let the bread sit in a warm, draft free spot for an hour, or until it has almost doubled in size. You will be able to see gaping cracks in the cheese coating of each ball, and the dough should have risen almost up to the top of your pan.

While the bread is rising, preheat your oven to 350ºF.

Tuck the bread into the center of your oven for approximately 35-40 minutes, or until the top is browned and firm. If the bread is browning too quickly but the dough still feels spongy when you lightly press down on it, loosely tent the pan with foil and allow it to continue cooking.

Turn the pan out onto a serving dish while it is still warm, and serve your buttery, decadent, cheesy bread.

Oh yeah. That’s what I’m talking about. Golden brown and utterly delicious.

When the bread is warm you can pull it apart into the individual morsels, each one filled with a rich, oozing center of molten cheese. Does life even get any better than that?

Five minutes into the Superbowl, and the bread already looked like this.

We were so full of carby goodness and dairy fat that frankly I was beyond caring who won or lost, I just wanted more cheesy Mediterranean pull apart bread.

This bread was a home run. Or a TKO, winning shot, or whatever other kind of sports analogy it takes to mean that hungry fans are in your home and they are about to be pleased beyond their wildest dreams. Because, people, if you think of this bread as the Olympics of pub-grub, that’s just what I bring.