Hello! I’ve missed you, if you’re a veteran, and welcome, if you’re a newcomer. August was a doozy, not least of which because I misread (or, to put it more truthfully, “did not read at all”) at least three of my two kids’ summer camp & school schedules and I royally F’ed myself into a month without childcare while simultaneously planning and prepping for a 200-person family event.
You’ll forgive my absence, maybe?, because here’s another thing about August that proves annually to be true: food media becomes a parody of itself. Every outlet and writer hustles to be the first to say, “Who needs to cook when produce is this seasonally rich and ripe?!” and then proceeds to offer up yet another recipe for zucchini noodles or a bulleted list of laws about how to make The Best Tomato Sandwich (spoiler: the actual best way is “however you prefer to make it.”). In a single 36-hour span in early August, my inbox received three separate recipes for tomato tarts. I threw in the towel, declared August a culinary reset, and fed my children nothing but fresh corn for dinner at least three times. Call some services on me, if you must, but I assure you, it was their preference; food writers everywhere, take note. I fed myself pounds of cherries and sackfuls of fresh vegetables, shaved and lightly dressed, or else featured heavily in one of these. I did not miss cooking, and that’s how I know the time was ripe for a break.
So: that was August! But now it’s over, and we’re back to work. Today’s issue is a full-sized version, all parts intact, and it should take you 6-7 minutes to read. Only here for the recipe? I respect that: scroll down for Grilled Panzanella, a low-effort, high-reward, novice-level recipe that toes this line between the effortlessness of August produce and September’s return to flirting with heftier, heartier meals. xo.
Reader Q.
Question: “I know that I’m jumping the gun, but I love Christmas and I am already thinking about winter baking, so I have to finally ask, once and for all, how much is “a pinch” of something?!” - S.K., San Francisco
Answer: In general, “a pinch” equates to about 1/16th of a teaspoon of something, but there are a handful of sites and cookbook authors that argue otherwise. What’s more important than knowing the precise volume, however, is knowing that when a recipe is written calling for “a pinch” of something, you can forgive yourself a margin of error, because precision isn’t necessary. It’s an ingredient call that’s most commonly reserved for intense spices (where a little goes a long way), or to indicate that you’ll need just a little bit more of something for topping or finishing a dish (a cookie recipe, for example, where you’d want to include salt both in the dough as well as a sprinkling on top). You’ll never be in danger of ruining your dish if your pinch is a little heftier, or a little more scant, than someone else’s. Most quality sets of measuring spoons (use stainless steel without a rounded edge for accuracy and precision - no more plastic, please!) will include a 1/8th teaspoon measure, and you can simply eyeball half of that to get 1/16th or a pinch.
Or: use this hack. Submerge the tines of a standard 4-pronged dinner fork into your salt cellar or your uncapped spice bottle, taking care not to get any on the root (the wider base) of the fork, and gently lift it out. The little mountains of seasoning that remain on the tines of the fork will equal 1/16th of a teaspoon, every time.
Links.
Loved this story about how a small town saved its only grocery store - by buying it.
This budgeting experiment was a big hit, so I thought I’d share this version that I look forward to following, this week: WaPo’s G. Daniela Galarza is publishing one recipe per day that each clocks in at $2 or less per serving.
This recipe is nearly 20 years old, but it has been living rent-free in my mind the last few weeks. I’d love to try it with coffee in place of the water.
I don’t know about this one, but if nothing else, I do feel vaguely validated for all those times I’ve told you to swap in things like potato chip crumbs, crushed pretzels, breakfast cereal, or Doritos for boring-ass breadcrumbs.
Recipe: Grilled Panzanella.
Serves: 2-3 with leftovers; more as part of a spread.
Time: about 30 minutes, much of it hands-off.
Skill: very novice; this is almost all assembly
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Panzanella is a traditional Tuscan dish - an outlet for old, dried bread. Modern (and American) interpretations of the dish often have “Tomato Salad with Bread” energy, but that misses the mark a bit: panzanella is bread salad, one to which tomatoes were added a few hundred years after inception. The bread is the thing. And to that end, while I think the marriage of tomatoes & bread is a delightful thing, I think we too often (1) focus on the toms, and (2) we accept panzanella’s roots too quickly: as an outlet for utilizing otherwise-discarded bread. Traditional recipes have you rehydrate dried bread cubes with water. It’s a serviceable method - and one that can employed to fine results! - but: enough.
We frequently elevate this dish as best we can by saving it until harvest season, to be eaten only when we have access to the best, blowsy, ripe local heirloom tomatoes. Why are we not elevating the bread component, as well?
So: let’s.
Who among us hasn’t ordered a bowl of something saucy - mussels, maybe - in a restaurant and wished, dearly, for more wedges of the chewy-crisp, blackened grilled bread that accompanies? (I see no hands raised.) Let’s eat a bowlful of that. Rather than using mealy chunks of rehydrated bread, we’re going to build a salad of fresh bread - bread that still contains all of the yeast esters and alcohols and flavor compounds that are lost during drying. The bread dries just enough during grilling to be able to absorb the flavorful tomato broth while still retaining its signature bounce and chew.
Why does this work?
By using fresh bread instead of rehydrated dried bread, we maximize both flavor and texture.
Because we’re not soaking bread in water, it has the structural integrity to survive a pass over a hot grill, further deepening flavor.
The dressing ingredients boost the tomatoes’ natural sweetness, acidity, and umami.
By allowing our protein to rest in a covered bowl, we encourage a puddle of rich smoky juices to collect - which we’ll use to further add depth and flavor to the dressing.
What can I change?
Because we’re not soaking bread in water and wringing it dry, we’re not asking much of its protein structure - meaning that this panzanella recipe will actually work with your favorite gluten-free bread if you so desire (traditional p’ella recipes do not).
For heartiness and flavor, I am including grilled shrimp, but you could add any grilled proteins you like - tofu, chicken or steak, some salmon, some chunks of spicy sausages - or even mushrooms. Or, of course, omit it all entirely, and focus only on the bread and produce; the dressing is flavorful enough to stand on its own.
Basil is traditional, and is overwhelming many gardens and market stands right now, but feel free to use any tender herb: parsley, tarragon, more thyme, some chives. You could even use cilantro for an entirely different interpretation.
You can swap half of medium (baseball-sized) onion for the shallot.
Ingredients
1 pound of 16/20* shrimp, cleaned/shelled (*this is a size designation)
1/4C (4 T) olive oil, divided
1 whole head of garlic, roasted (see Note)
1 12” loaf of chewy, crusty bread, cut into inch-thick slices (you can really use any style here, don’t sweat it)
2-3 large ripe heirloom tomatoes (or an assortment of smaller ones; 3ish pounds, total)
1 tablespoon each: quality balsamic vinegar, fresh lemon juice, real maple syrup (or brown sugar), soy or tamari sauce (+1 extra T of the soy sauce)
1/4C (-ish; no need to sweat precision) of basil chiffonade
a few stems’ worth of fresh thyme leaves (don’t use dried, here)
1 whole shallot, peeled
fine-grained salt & freshly cracked pepper
Instructions
Preheat your grill to its highest setting (or: light your coals).
Place the shrimp in a bowl and toss with one teaspoon of salt, one tablespoon of the oil, and 2-3 cloves of the softened, roasted garlic. Toss to combine, using your fingers to crush the cloves of garlic, and set aside.
Feel free to go big, here: if you want to season your shrimp with a favorite spice blend, some citrus, an herb puree, some miso, some chili or curry paste: do it. This recipe intentionally mild so that it can receive any personalization and modification that you wanna throw at it.
In a large bowl, combine the remaining oil and the rest of the roasted garlic cloves with another teaspoon of salt and whisk until smooth.
Brush both sides of each slice of bread lightly with the garlicky oil and arrange them on a tray or platter until you’re ready to grill. (You won’t use all of the garlic oil; that’s ok.)
Cut your tomatoes into bite-sized pieces. Any small cherry or grape tomatoes must still be halved, even if they’re tiny: leave nothing whole.
Add your tomatoes to the remaining garlic oil, and drizzle over the balsamic, lemon, maple syrup, and soy sauce. Add the thyme & a few cracks of black pepper and toss everything to combine. Taste for seasoning! This is your show. Tomatoes, lemons, balsamic vingers: all will have varying sugar and acid levels. Use this as a starting point, but add more syrup, more acid, more soy sauce, or more pepper as needed to suit your palate and your produce.
Tomatoes will release a lot of water after 5-10 minutes - wait, come back, and taste again!
Tomatoes can be prepped up to a day ahead, and there is NO NEED to refrigerate; just keep it in in airtight container. Refrigeration destroys the texture of fresh tomatoes.
When you’re ready to eat, arrange the shrimp on the grill and flip every minute; cook until they are pink and opaque, 2-4 minutes depending upon your grill. Remove to a bowl, cover with a lid or clean towel, and set aside.
Next, arrange the seasoned bread slices on the grill and flip every 30 seconds to avoid burning. Like the shrimp, doneness will depend upon your grill (and your preference of crispy char) but this will take an additional 2-4 minutes. Remove the bread slices to a cutting board and turn off your grill.
While your bread cools just enough for you to be able to handle it, uncover your shrimp and add them - and all of their smoky, savory juices - to your tomatoes. Add the basil chiffonade as well and toss to combine. Taste once more for seasoning and adjust as necessary!
Once the bread is cool enough to touch, use a serrated knife to cut each slice into bite-sized cubes (you can stack 2-3 slices at a time to speed things up).
Arrange the cubes of hot, smoky garlic bread on a serving platter, in a wide shallow bowl, or in individual serving bowls. Ladle over the saucy, drippy mixture of herbs, marinated tomatoes, and hot shrimp, and dig in. xo.
Almost forgot: did you need that Note about roasted garlic? Couldn’t be easier: wrap a whole bulb, skin and all, in foil with a teaspoon of water, and bake at 350F for an hour. When you’re done, slice the entire bulb crosswise with a sharp knife and gently squeeze, et voila: roasted garlic, no work, no peeling. You can do half a dozen bulbs at a time, individually wrapped; store the freshly-squozen cloves in the freezer ‘til needed.
Butterpat.
A little something extra.
If you’re firing up the grill in these waning days of summer, don’t forget to first check your produce drawers and bowls for orphans: maximize your energy usage and reduce waste by throwing a few sliced lemons, a peeled and quartered onion, or halves of errant fruit on the grates alongside your steaks or pizzas. Cool, wrap, and freeze these little extras, so that in the thick of winter, you can reap the benefits of your grill without having to fire it up. Imagine: grilled peaches and onions to toss on a sheet pan with sausages and yams; grilled lemon slices to finish off a quick pan-sauce; grilled apples for pancakes and French toast; grilled rosemary sprigs for cocktails.