Panzanella Tomato Bread Salad

How does one boast the positive attributes of a salad consisting of moist bread soaked in the juices of tomatoes? By not using the words "moist" and "bread" together in the same sentence, perhaps? Maybe a better question is how does one photograph said salad and make it look appetizing? Well, I did my best. I can assure you it isn't typically the visual appeal that gets a person to take the panzanella plunge. I must confess that it took me 28 long years to even try the stuff myself. Call me crazy, but wet bread has never really struck my fancy. 

I don't really know what finally prompted me to give panzanella a shot. I'm sure the stars must have aligned and I just so happened to have a loaf of stale bread, overripe tomatoes and the summer issue of Bon Appetit with panzanella on the cover. Whatever the case, I am SO glad I got over the wet bread thing and got my hands dirty (literally!) to try this recipe out.  

It's not exactly a quick or easy recipe but it's so worth it and makes a wonderful special occasion dish too. Though panzanella is considered a "salad," I have a hard time preparing both a salad that is this labor intensive AND a main dish at the same meal. So when panzanella is on the menu, I usually just serve it with some salami, cheese and wine alongside and call it a night. Use the ripest tomatoes you can (overripe is better) and this is a great recipe for that loaf of bread that you didn't get around to using right away (am I the only one that does this?) I recommend using ciabatta as it holds together well and doesn't completely disintegrate in the tomato juice and olive oil. I love for there to be a few bready chunks left intact when it's all said and done.

Because I spent the last 8 years of my life with an electric stove, I always charred the peppers for this recipe by putting them under the broiler. Now that I am living with my in-laws, I was able to play with fire a bit and char them by setting them on the metal grate directly over the flame of the gas burner. Fun times!

The last thing I will say about this recipe is that I know ingredients like Kalamata olives, capers and anchovies tends to scare away some of the less adventurous of us eaters. But I cannot imagine this recipe tasting nearly as exciting without them! They add just the perfect salty, savory Italian zing that makes this dish worth telling you about. So, go big or go home! If you're going to eat a dish starring wet bread, might as well throw in some olives, capers and anchovies too. ;)


Panzanella (Tomato Bread Salad)
(adapted from Bon Appetit Magazine)

2 pounds tomatoes 

1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil plus more for drizzling 

3 tablespoons (or more) red wine vinegar 

4 garlic cloves, minced 

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper 

1 loaf stale bread (such as country or ciabatta), cut into 1 inch-thick slices 

1 red bell pepper

1 yellow bell pepper   

2 jalapeño peppers 

1/2 cup Kalamata olives, pitted   

1/4 cup capers, rinsed, patted dry, coarsely chopped 

4 anchovy fillets, rinsed, patted dry, finely chopped

1 large bunch basil, leaves trimmed, stems discarded 

 

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Using the tip of a paring knife, make two 1" cuts on the bottom of each tomato, forming an X. Add tomatoes to water and cook just until skin begins to peel back at each X, 40-50 seconds. Using a slotted spoon, transfer tomatoes to a large bowl of ice water; let cool. Peel tomatoes and place in another large bowl. Using your hands, crush tomatoes, breaking up any large pieces and releasing juices.

Stir in 1/2 cup oil, 3 Tbsp. vinegar, and garlic. Season to taste with salt, pepper, and more vinegar, if desired. Add bread to tomato mixture in bowl. Toss until bread is well coated and starts to absorb liquid. Let sit for 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, char bell peppers and jalapeño peppers, directly over a gas flame or in the broiler until blackened all over. Transfer to a resealable plastic bag. Close bag and let sit for 15 minutes. Remove peppers; peel, core, seed, and cut into 1/4" strips.

Add peppers, olives, capers, and anchovies to bread mixture. Massage with your hands until all ingredients are thoroughly combined and bread is broken down (it will break down differently depending on what kind is used; ciabatta tends to stay more intact). Add basil and season with pepper.

Cover salad and let stand at room temperature for 1 hour. Drizzle with oil just before serving.

Serves 6-8

My First True French Salad with Goat Cheese in Puff Pastry

I remember so vividly the night I was introduced to my First True French Salad. We were in France, in Paris even, where everyone should probably experience their First True French Salad. It was June and we had spent a gloriously sunny day touring the city - the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Notre Dame - on foot and via metro, a 9 month old babe strapped to my front.

We had been on our feet all day and I was exhausted and ready to collapse, but my husband had other ideas. He urged "just one more stop," a trip to the highest point in Paris, the Sacré-Cœur, a gleaming white church situated atop the butte Montmartre. I hesitantly agreed and after catching the metro across town, lugged my jet-lagged self up the many steps to the church. Our timing was perfect and what had seemed like madness to me suddenly began to make sense. It was early evening and the sun was beginning to make it's way down in the sky, creating a breathtaking glow as it reflected off the buildings of the city below. I was awestruck and grateful for my husband's wisdom in pushing me to just one more site. We savored the scene for as long as our hungry bellies would allow before heading back down the hill, this time down the steps on the side of the church, a different way from which we came. 

We had no idea where we were going, just hopeful we would happen upon a café that would strike our fancy. Graham, forever the lover of eating outdoors, was of course drawn to a small place with an even smaller patio crammed with drinking and smoking college students, a common sight in Paris. I wasn't too keen on the idea of dining with these comrades given that we were also traveling with a baby but it was getting late and we were hungry and it seemed our options at this point were either to eat there or wander for hours and potentially go without dinner. So we sat, with twinkling lights overhead, my stubborn nature warming yet again to my husband's gut instincts. He has a way of unearthing the amazing, if I just will let go of my way and let him.

I'll bet you know where this story is going. We placed our drink order (wine of course - we were in Paris!) and I began to relax. As was typical with our ignorance to the French language, we had no idea what we were reading as we perused the menu. With some effort, I had determined that a haricot vert was a French version of the green bean, slender and delicate. I spotted them amidst other words on the menu and figured I would order whatever it was, at ease knowing that it would at least include a vegetable.

When the dish arrived, I was delighted to discover it was actually a large salad. There were haricot verts, yes, but also lots of other tasty morsels - olives, hard-boiled eggs, tomatoes - finished with a perfectly-browned pastry balancing on top. And it got better. When I cut into the warm pastry, I realized it was filled with French cheese, melted and soft. I don't remember much else about the meal other than that I was in heaven. White lights, a warm evening, the best company (and by that I mean my husband and child, not our neighboring tables who did eventually put out their cigarettes), a cool glass of rosé in hand. And the most amazing salad. My First True French Salad.

As soon as we returned to the states I did everything in my power to try and figure out how to recreate the beloved dish. Of course I had no idea what it was called, no idea the name of the café we were at even. I did my best to come up with my own version, working from memory and using the American ingredients available to me. I must confess, my replication tastes pretty accurate though I would never discourage you from going to Paris yourself to try and real thing. Just look for that little café with the white lights down the hill to the right of Sacré-Cœur.

In the meantime, I cannot urge you enough to MAKE THIS. The recipe is pretty straight forward but it does require things like hard-boiled eggs and cooked haricot verts that add to the process if you don't have them made ahead of time. I recommend preparing dishes earlier in the week that call for haricot verts (or green beans are fine too) and hard-boiled eggs and cooking a few extras to set aside for this salad. Then it will come together quickly on the day you choose to serve it. You will not be disappointed that you went to the extra effort. Trust me. Bon Appétit!

My First True French Salad with Goat Cheese in Puff Pastry

1 egg

2 Tablespoons water
6 ounces of goat cheese, cut into six (1 ounce) round slices
Frozen puff pastry sheets, thawed
10 ounces mixed greens
3 cups haricot verts, cooked and cooled (or green beans)
6 hard-boiled eggs, peeled and cut into wedges
6 Roma tomatoes cut into wedges
¼ cup Kalamata olives
Freshly ground pepper
French Vinaigrette Dressing (recipe below)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Crack an egg into a small bowl or custard cup and whisk with water to create an egg wash. Unroll 1 sheet of puff pastry, trimming as needed to create a square that fits around your goat cheese round with some overlap. Brush the edges of the puff pastry with egg wash and then wrap around goat cheese, pinching to seal. Brush the top with egg wash and then place onto a greased baking sheet. Repeat with remaining 5 goat cheese rounds. Bake for 15-18 minutes or until pastry is golden brown.

Meanwhile, divide salad greens onto 6 plates. Distribute haricot verts, hard-boiled egg wedges, tomatoes and olives evenly over the plates. Drizzle with French Vinaigrette a generous amount of freshly ground black pepper. Top eat plate with a warm goat cheese pastry and serve with a fork and knife!

Serves 6

French Vinaigrette Dressing

(from David Lebovitz)

1/8 teaspoon Kosher salt

1 Tablespoon red wine vinegar

1/2 of a small shallot, minced (about 1 Tablespoon)

1/2 teaspoon Dijon mustard

3 to 4 Tablespoons olive oil

Fresh herbs, if desired (I usually use chives but thyme or basil would be nice too)

In a small bowl, mix together the salt, vinegar, and shallot. Let stand for about ten minutes. Mix in the Dijon mustard, then add 3 tablespoons of olive oil. Stir well, then taste. If too sharp, add the additional olive oil and more salt, if necessary. If you wish to add fresh herbs, it’s best to chop and mix them in shortly before serving so they retain their flavor.

Makes about 1/4 cup, enough for one large green salad

Tomato, Feta and Basil Galette

This is a summer of great celebration in Seattle and all of you gardeners know why. Tomatoes have turned their right color! In July! This has never happened. At least not in my yard. Usually, come September, my tomato plants are heavy with fruit, looking as if their vines will snap at any given moment. I grow wildly excited and begin dreaming tomato recipes and having visions of what I will do with my crop. And then, probably just days before they are ready to harvest, BAM! It comes. The rain. That never-ending soggy cloud that covers the sun here in Seattle, hiding it away until July 5th of the following year, and leaving my tomato plants bulging with a green crop and a scowling gardener.

But this year! It's like Christmas came early and the tomato bounty will finally be enjoyed. I hope you find yourself in an overabundant tomato predicament so you can give this recipe a try. It's like a cross between a vegetable and dessert, if that's even possible. The flaky crust crumbles in your mouth, a perfect pair with the sweet tomatoes and pungent feta. And the fresh basil! I best not say more lest I begin sounding awkward. 

Oddly enough, this dish tonight was inspired by a cow. You see, as we speak, my in-laws are making their way to Oregon to pick up and lug home some grass-fed beef (and by some I mean an entire cow) to give us anemic folk a boost and so the theme of tonight's meal was We-Desperately-Need-Some-Space-in-the-Freezer-so-Defrost-and-Cook-Up. If you recall, I'm a crust cheater as I mentioned in this post here. Once again, I used my very favorite frozen pie crust find from Trader Joe's (I mean, I needed to clear out a spot in the freezer after all). The crust contains no shortening and therefore is trans fat free which makes it practically a health food...or something. By using the frozen crust (which I thawed on the counter for about 30 minutes before using), I whipped out the galette in no time. I served it along with some grilled peaches, zucchini and barbecued chicken. We incidentally discovered that each bite of galette married perfectly with a slice of grilled peach. This got me dreaming of future galette combinations...thinly sliced zucchini and pancetta, prosciutto, peaches and blue cheese to name a couple.
 

Tomato, Feta and Basil Galette

(adapted from Cooking Light Magazine)

 

1 recipe pie crust

1 pint cherry tomatoes or multicolored pear tomatoes, halved lengthwise

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup (2 ounces) crumbled feta cheese
1/4 cup small basil leaves

Preheat oven to 425°.

Unwrap dough, and roll dough into a 13-inch circle on a lightly floured surface. Place dough on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Arrange tomatoes, cut sides up, on top of dough, leaving a 1 1/2-inch border. Sprinkle with salt and pepper and top with feta. Fold edges of dough over tomatoes to partially cover. Bake at 425° for 25 minutes or until golden brown. Sprinkle evenly with cheese. Bake an additional 5 minutes. Cool for 5 minutes, and sprinkle with basil. Cut into 6 wedges.

Serves 6