The first time I visited Jo’s house, there was something soaking in a tub on the draining board. From a distance it looked like sponges, or short sections of the natural loofah that hung around our bathroom in the 1980s, which, at the time, reminded me of a chewed corn on the cob. But, up close, I realised it was bits of bread floating like rafts in the blue tub of water.
I don’t think I had ever heard the word panzanella before. Jo explained that age dictates the quantity of water: the older the bread, the more it requires. Several days-old bread needs only swishing under a tap to dampen it back to life, while older, raffermato – that is, firmed-up-but-still-rippable – bread needs a cup or so of water pouring over. Hard or rock-hard bread, meanwhile – the sort that seems to say: “Go on, try me” to both hands and knives – needs fully soaking and/or immersion for the water to penetrate the crumb and make it soft again. This is also why, once softened, the bread needs squeezing, so the final consistency is damp crumbs.
I have written about bread salad and panzanella before. A Tuscan solution for “mature” bread, it was initially considered zuppa di pane freddo, or “cold bread soup”: that is, bread soaked in water (which explains the name pan – bread – zanella – the dish) and topped with sliced onion and cucumber. It evolved, as recipes do and should, to incorporate diced tomatoes, ripped basil, maybe pepper and red-wine vinegar, anchovies and egg. I have remained fascinated by the varied approaches to the bread: slices, big rags or neatly ripped pieces, cubes, toasted cubes, crumbs … Jo’s advice reminds us that the type of bread you use and its age (also your preference) dictates the way you prepare the salad.
More often than not, I use very old bread for panzanella, because once it has reached the stage of rock-hard that defies ripping and cutting, soaking really is the best solution. Also, because I like the crumb-like texture that soaked and crumbled bread brings – it reminds me of bulgur wheat in tabbouleh. In fact, when made this way, the whole dish is reminiscent of tabbouleh both in look and texture. My version also takes inspiration from a bread salad typical in Basilicata, called cialledda. It’s made with carosello, which looks like a round cucumber and is treated as such, but is actually a variety of muskmelon typical to southern Italy. And this brings us to the inclusion of watermelon, both juice and flesh, which is an inspired idea from chef Vitantonio Lombardo that brings soft, savoury sweetness to the dish (and especially helpful if the tomatoes are lacking).
I haven’t called this panzanella or cialledda, even though it owes much to both, as well as to tabbouleh. And in writing this I have discovered that natural loofahs are the dried, fibrous skeletons that come from luffa plants, which are part of the gourd family – so in fact, relatives of watermelons and cucumbers. What a useful family.
Bread, tomato, cucumber and watermelon salad
Serves 4
300g seedless watermelon flesh
500g two-day-old bread, (country-style, sourdough or ciabatta)
1 red onion, peeled, halved and diced
Red-wine vinegar
20 cherry tomatoes, diced
2-3 small Lebanese cucumbers, or caroselli, peeled and diced
1 huge handful ripped basil
Dried oregano
Extra-virgin olive oil
Salt
Press two-thirds of the watermelon flesh through a sieve to produce juice, and cut the rest into small cubes, making sure any juices that escape are added to the rest.
How old is the bread? If it’s just a few days old, rip it into small pieces, put in a bowl and cover with the watermelon juice. If it’s too hard to break up, put the lump of bread in a bowl, pour over the juice, leave to sit for half an hour, turning regularly, then crumble with your hands, squeezing out and discarding any excess liquid, if need be.
Put the diced onion in a bowl, cover with a 50:50 mixture of water and red-wine vinegar and leave to sit for 10 minutes.
Drain the onion, then mix with the bread. Add the tomato, cucumber, watermelon, basil, a good pinch of oregano and six teaspoons of olive oil, then taste and add salt, if needed, and maybe a dash of red-wine vinegar, too. Leave to sit for 10 minutes, and up to an hour, then toss again and serve.
