Tuscan Bread Salad: Panzanella

I feel like I have to sell people on Panzanella, that the idea of a salad composed of moistened bread lacks appeal. Maybe for that reason a lot of American chefs and recipes propose it as a salad with old bread cut into cubes and toasted, basically croutons. But that's the lowest common denominator spin on it, and not at all like the real thing.

I like my panzanella homogeneous with all the elements close to the same size. That way the mound of shredded bread bits dominate, studded with diced vegetables along the way. Those who hearken back to the days when this would have been invented by those looking to stretch every morsel would say panzanella should just be the bread, some olive oil, maybe vinegar, and maybe a handful of olives or tomatoes (post 1492). But the chassis of pane makes for such a good vehicle that it can carry a wide range and varying weight of treats to make a complete meal.

With the setting sun of Labor Day, so too goes the Summer for most intents and purposes. The thrill is gone, or trill if you're French Canadian. This salad works best in Summer, when you tend to seek out crisp, refreshing and watery vegetables. But it can really be employed in any season with raw or cooked vegetables. I suggest though that the first time you make it you get it in while local tomatoes are still on the vines, the Sun is still warm and so is the comradeship.

The only finesse involved is in handling the bread. It needs to be quite old, soaked, then drained without mashing it into a breadball, then torn into bits. For this you will need a rustic, crusty bread. Sandwich bread, whole wheat bread, multi-grain, even most baguettes will not work. They tend to rip and disintegrate with minimal effort when pulled apart, and they become dense like a star turned black hole when wrung out. A ciabatta, a legitimately crusty Italian bread or artisan baguette, with their large irregular holes, will stretch a ways before tearing, and will spring back like a sponge when squeezed. Take a moment or two to visualize the breads I'm talking about and the texture needed.

The bread needs to age long enough that the moisture evaporates from the cells throughout the entire loaf, not just the surface. Kind of strange that you dry the bread out only to re-moisten it, but the air drying changes the properties. Reference my post several months back about Italian bread where I noted that I leave my loaves out and exposed for weeks, by which they last much longer and avoid mold that occurs when you wrap them in air-tight plastic. This dish is exactly why you naturally age bread and don't throw it away. I'll tell you a secret though; in a pinch I will accelerate the aging process by cutting the bread into large chunks and baking them at 225 for about ten minutes. Shhh! Nonna Crocifissa would spank me with the wooden spoon if she ever caught me!

When you think about it you can easily use a whole loaf of Italian bread to make this salad for four people. Don't think one loaf of bread will feed eight. So it's like eating at least four thick slices or so per person, a lot of carbs. But it's so good, especially with some sea salt and good olive oil, occasionally you have to just let it slide.

Serves 4 as a side salad, with some leftover

Ingredients:
1 loaf Italian bread, or equivalent volume of ciabatta or other rustic bread
2 large ripe tomatoes or equivalent weight of smaller ones
Handful of fresh basil
1 cucumber
1/2 to 1 cup olives, briny or oil-cured
Good Tuscan extra virgin olive oil
Optional: red or white wine vinegar
Sea salt & pepper to taste

Take your bread and make sure it's hard and thoroughly dry one way or another. I leave the crust on because I don't mind the contrast of the toasty tasting pieces and whiter pieces, and also because the founders of this recipe wouldn't have wasted anything. They might have used the crust for something else though, which you can too (crackers, bread crumbs). Cut it roughly into chunks a couple inches on each side. Prepare a large mixing bowl or deep dish with some water and place the bread in it and make sure the bread is submerged. Do it in batches if necessary.

Feel the bread after a couple minutes to judge whether it's soaked and softened yet. It should go from hard and unyielding to spongy. If it is soaked through, remove it. If not let it sit for up to twenty minutes. With moderate pressure in your hands squeeze out about 3/4 of the liquid in the bread. You're never going to get it dry, but you want it to stop dripping when you apply moderate pressure.

Place all the drained bread on a platter or in a food processor. If using the machine, pulse it a couple of times very briefly to chop it into irregular but mostly uniform in size pieces. By hand tear the pieces apart and place them in a salad bowl. Drizzle a generous amount of the olive oil on the bread, and vinegar if you like, then gently mix.

Prepare the other ingredients by chopping them into pieces similar in size to the bread. Add them to the bread and dress with more oil (don't be stingy), and vinegar if you'd like. Season to taste with salt and pepper and mix gently so as to keep the bread fluffy. This salad improves over time whereby the bread soaks up the liquid exuded by the other ingredients, melding flavors. You can prepare it several hours in advance, or the day before. Serve at room temperature or only slightly below.

There are all kinds of variations and additions: canned tuna, hard boiled eggs, beans, cheese, fennel, bell pepper, onions, arugula, corn, herbs galore, etc. Or make it apropos for another season like asparagus and favas in the Spring, roasted vegetables like cauliflower and broccoli in Fall or Winter.

Happy Birthday Mom Saponare!