Ingredients
Preparation
Step 1
I have yet to have a panzanella that excites me. The name is so tempting, as is the sight of ripe tomatoes tossed with bread, herbs, and olive oil, but I have never found one that wasn’t disappointing. At their best lackluster, at their worst slimy. One day I will find the glowing, basil-scented classic that so many people rave over.
Step 2
My own version of this bread and tomato salad involves tossing pieces of garlic-rubbed toast with chopped red and orange tomatoes at the last minute, so that at least some of the bread stays crisp among the green oil and scarlet fruit. I chop up a mixture of tomatoes—red, orange, green, cherry, and pear shaped, even the odd beefsteak if it’s very ripe—then put them and their juices into a bowl. I don’t skin or seed, only twist out the herb-scented stalks, sniffing each one as I go.
Step 3
I toast thin slices of sourdough loaf on the grill, until the centers are crisp and the outsides are black here and there. Pour olive oil—very green and fruity—over the tomatoes, toss in some torn basil leaves, and just a little wine vinegar. A clove of garlic, peeled and sliced as thin as tissue. Then a scattering of salt, and a twist of the pepper mill. I remove the toast from the grill, rub it with a cut clove of garlic, and tear it into pieces. The tomatoes and their juices are spooned into a deep dish, the toast tucked in, and then tossed, gently, briefly, before eating.
