This
was a means to use up the end result of an unsuccessful bread-baking.
I‘d tried making a no-knead loaf with fresh (liquid) yeast for the first time, but got the rest of the liquid measurement wrong and the loaf didn’t rise properly. It tasted fine, but “dense and chewy” would be
a kind description of the texture, any American football player could have thrown it a fair distance down the field, and woe betide anyone getting it in the back of the head…
My
first thought was to cut it up and make croutons for soup, then realised that in several Italian and German recipes the croutons could be an
ingredient in the soup, rather than a garnish. What follows is a combination of
those recipes; it tastes good, and is just the thing for a damp, grey winter day.
6
Tbsp olive oil
500
g stale (or inadequately risen) bread, cubed
2
onions, finely chopped
4
cloves garlic, finely chopped
1
small tin anchovy fillets in oil
800
g (2 tins) chopped tomatoes
1
litre stock (I used 2 x chicken cubes; home-made would be far better)
1
tsp ground black pepper (no salt, the anchovies have plenty)
1
tsp dry sage.
2
tsp dried basil.
2
tsp dried tarragon
Heat
the olive oil in a heavy bottomed saucepan, fry the bread cubes in the oil
until golden and crunchy – it’s easier to do this in several batches – then
remove and set aside.
Soften
the onions and garlic in the oil until they start to colour, then add the
anchovies and their oil and stir until well broken up.
Now
add the tomatoes, stock and dry ingredients, stir, and simmer for thirty
minutes.
Turn
off the heat, stir in the bread cubes, cover and leave for 10 minutes.
Serve
in heated bowls, topped with grated cheese (it should be Parmesan, I
had mature Cheddar and very nice it was) and a garnish of snipped chives.
Note (1): This can become vegetarian by changing the stock and leaving out the anchovies. That will change the taste, but something like Marmite, Vegemite etc. would make a good – and equally salty – subsititute.
Note
(2): as time passes the bread will get less crunchy as it absorbs more liquid. Two hours after
making it, this soup could be eaten with a fork. This morning it could be eaten with a knife and fork… So, at lunchtime I added another
½
litre of stock (from another cube, but perked up with a big squeeze of tomato
purée) stirred it in gently so as not to break up all the bread and heated it through. Just as tasty as last night, with a much softer texture, more like the original Pappa al Pomodoro recipe before I started messing about.
Note (3): try to use a rustic or artisan bread with a dense
crumb, such as ciabatta, focaccia, sourdough etc. I have a feeling that ordinary sandwich-loaf bread will fall apart
even when
fried (I may be wrong; it depends on the bread.) The result will taste equally good, but will be a simple thick tomato-y soup without this one’s
satisfying chunky mouth-feel.
Nava 