The recipe for bruschetta is so simple, it could be just two sentences: In a bowl, stir together chopped tomatoes and chopped fresh basil, season with salt and pepper. Grill or toast slices of good Italian bread, rub each slice with garlic, spoon some of the tomato-basil mixture on top and drizzle with good Italian olive oil.
But as in most of my cooking, the key lies not in the recipe, but in the ingredients. When my sister and I were kids, we made our own garlic bread by toasting American white bread, spreading on margarine and sprinkling it with dried garlic powder. Hey, we liked it, garlic-breath and all!
But when I discovered bruschetta for the first time in Tuscany nearly 20 years ago, I was so blown away by the flavors that I began trying to recreate it as closely as I could here in the U.S. How could I achieve the same texture of bread that crunched satisfyingly when you bit into it, yet soft enough to give way and fold into your mouth? I especially loved tomato bruschetta. Could I replicate that balance of warm, ripe tomatoes, fragrant fresh basil, sharp but not overpowering garlic, and peppery olive oil?
I
start with good ingredients. I like Italian bread, but I’ve also used
French baguettes and sourdough in a pinch. Ideally, you want something
sturdy with relatively little flavor. Traditional Tuscan bruschetta is
made with a white, saltless bread. It doesn’t taste like much on its
own, but serves as the backdrop for the flavors that count.
Olive oil. This is where you want to use that expensive bottle of extra-virgin olive oil. In Italy, the best olive oils are used at the last minute, drizzled on top of risotto or pasta as you bring them to the table. Because the oil is barely heated, none of its delicate, volatile flavor components are destroyed.
Tomatoes are the centerpiece of this dish. Wait until they are in season—or don't bother. Taste the tomatoes first. If the tomatoes don’t taste good on their own, don’t use them, because they won’t taste any better on the bruschetta. Try another topping instead (fennel, beans, etc).
Peel and seed the tomatoes. (I cut the tomatoes in half and squeeze out all the seeds and water, reserving this liquid for other uses, such as soups or sauces.) Chop into rough chunks. Season with salt and pepper.
Slice the basil into thin strips and stir with the tomatoes.
Slice the bread into thick slabs. Toast the bread in a toaster, under a broiler, or on a grill. Experiment to get the degree of doneness that you like. Much of this will depend on how the type of bread you use. You want the bruschetta to soak up some of the tomatoes and their juices; so don’t dry them out to the same degree as if you were making crostini or croutons. (Note: although similar, crostini are generally smaller and crunchier than bruschetta, often spread with chicken livers, olive paste, or marrow.)
When the bread is browned, remove and immediately rub each slice with a clove of raw garlic, cut in half. This imparts a nice, but not overwhelming, garlic flavor.
Spoon the tomatoes onto the toasted bread and drizzle with extra-virgin olive oil.
I like to serve this immediately, so that the heat of the bread warms the tomatoes and olive oil, releasing all of their scent as you lift the bruschetta to your mouth.
Buon appetito!
Comments