Two years ago, a friend bought me a book at an auction. “Dear friend, will you accept this little book?” she joked, before handing it to me with a cover like a dried teabag crossed with a stocking, and a dislocated spine that revealed what looked like fishnet underneath. It must be 100 years old, I said as I put on my reading specs. The line drawing of vegetables and letters on the tobacco-coloured cover were faded, and one letter was almost completely erased by a watermark, but nonetheless the title was clear: Leaves from Our Tuscan Kitchen, by Janet Ross. It bloody well was 100 years old! The cover held 150 manilla-yellow pages; if not a first edition, certainly an early one, and a stupendous gift. “Look at the first page,” my friend said with a laughing eye. I opened the book to find a note written in pencil on the endpaper (the name Mrs Ward and an address I can’t make out except for the postcode SW1), while on the first page was a typed dedication to Mrs GF Watts: “Dear friend, will you accept this little book? It may sometimes bring the thought of Italy into your beautiful Surrey home.” Ross was an English writer, historian and biographer. Born in 1842, she lived in Egypt as a young woman, where she (may have) worked as a correspondent for the Times. Then, in 1869, almost by happenstance and apparently motivated by money, Ross and her husband settled in Italy, just outside Florence. They rented to begin with, then bought a dilapidated villa called Poggio Gherardo, which would eventually become a hub of much literary hosting (Edith Wharton, Norman Douglas and Mark Twain were all guests). The villa also had several farms with tenant farmers attached, which meant that Ross – who was clearly a woman with a business mind – became immersed in Tuscan agricultural life, producing wine, cheese and olive oil. She wrote numerous books, including the 1899 Leaves from Our Tuscan Kitchen, a collection of recipes following the dictation of the Ross’s chef Giuseppe Volpi, which came about after years of friends pleading for her to share recipes for cooking vegetables in the Italian fashion. In fact, later editions have the subheading “Or how to cook vegetables”. The book, which is still in print, is arranged alphabetically – artichokes, asparagus, beans, beet, beetroot, etc – with each vegetable having an average of half a dozen recipes expressed in a single, effective paragraph (an efficiency I dream of). I turned to a favourite section this week: tomatoes. Broiled, in shells, fried, crumbed, iced, Indian-style, baked, tomato pudding, pureed, stuffed, stewed, with rice, with egg – it is an excellent, timeless collection. Also, a set of tomato skills, which means the recipes feel like an invitation to improvise, which is what I have done in combining all three of her baked tomato recipes to produce what is best described as a savoury crumble. The slices fry slightly underneath, but go soft in the middle, while the breadcrumb, cheese and nut rubble bakes, ideally retaining its crumbly nature, and also getting a bit crisp and shell-like. Ross doesn’t specify an ideal temperature for eating any of her baked tomatoes, so serve them however you want: hot, room temperature or any of the degrees in between, with a salad or some fried or buttered bread, if you will accept it. Tomato crumble Serves 4 3 tbsp olive oil, plus more for the tin and on top 6 large tomatoes 100g soft white or brown breadcrumbs 50g almonds, roughly chopped 1 small handful oats 2-3 tbsp grated parmesan, pecorino or grana padano 1-2 garlic cloves, peeled and minced 1 small bunch parsley Salt and black pepper A 20cm x 30cm metal baking tray is ideal, but you can also use a large Pyrex or ceramic dish. Rub this with oil. Slice the tomatoes thickly (about 6mm), then arrange them on the tray, overlapping the slices generously. Use a food processor or a grater and a knife to reduce the breadcrumbs, almonds, oats, cheese, garlic and parsley to a rough crumble mix, then season with salt and pepper. Sprinkle the crumble mix over the tomatoes, zigzag nervously with oil and bake at 180C (160C fan)/350F/gas 4 for 25-30 minutes, until the tomatoes are soft and their crumble top toasted and a bit golden. If you wish, finish under the grill. This article was amended on 9 September 2024 because an earlier version mistakenly said that Janet Ross moved to Italy in 1969; she moved in 1869.