I have been a professional food photographer and stylist for over 12 years. For 5 years, I held a professorship to teach exactly this to American students in Florence Lorenzo de’ Medici University. I photograph cookbooks, restaurant dishes, food for ads. This meant, more often than not, moving leaves with tweezers, painting chicken with Betadine, and using potato puree with food coloring instead of real ice cream so that it looks the same but doesn’t melt (if you’re interested in more crazy hacks from the job, don’t hesitate to ask).
It was during one of those Lorenzo de’ Medici nights that I stayed over in Florence that I decided to break my focaccia from Conad’s streak and go to an actual trattoria. A friend came visiting and we decided to tackle a very classical, rustic, lovely place with small tables outside on the street, filled with smells of grilled steak, as are Florence’s streets at night. A place exactly as you would imagine a small trattoria in Florence to be.
We ordered two of the most Tuscan dishes on the menu: ribollita and pappa al pomodoro.
Both were delicious. Delicious in a way that seems almost unthinkable considering that these are dishes made with 4-5 ingredients. And yet: the high quality and generous quantity of the olive oil, vegetables and bread just made the magic.
I, unfortunately, can’t remember the name of the restaurant. I can remember, however, thinking: how would I go about photographing this?
At the height of my career, this is a question that would pop up often. As I ate my pappa al pomodoro, I was reminded of a night many years before, visiting Castelluccio di Norcia - a lovely medieval village atop of a hill, surrounded by colorful fields of flowering legumes. We had found a restaurant inside a cave-like, stone-and-wood 1500’s building with a large fireplace, the waiter (or rather, the host) putting on our table terracotta bowl after terracotta bowls of delicious mushes: farro risottos covered in fruity olive oil, lentil and split pea soup, stir-fried local greens harvested from Monte Vettore. The chilly breeze from the mountain smelled like flowering buds and was pleasantly chilly even in the heart of July. Those brown mushes were some of the best foods I’ve ever had.
I’m no longer scared of ‘ugly’ foods. While I still photograph cookbooks and try my best to set up a scene, I want that scene to look as natural as possible. Long gone are the Food Photography awards days. I just feel that, sometimes, trying too hard to beautify food is making it a disservice. This is, after all, a perfectly good recipe born from the healthy principles of avoiding food waste and putting simple, great ingredients forward.
So, in the full creativity and ingenuity that characterizes Italian cooking, here’s the recipe for pappa al pomodoro - a perfect way to recycle stale bread.
Traditionally, you should do this with pane sciocco - salt-less Tuscan bread. I thing any white-ish bread will do, or even stale sourdough, as long as you like the taste.
This recipe can be made with fresh tomatoes, but I made it with passata to make it into a year-round dish. See suggestions below on how to serve it (try it with burrata!!)
It is perfect for summer as you can serve it cold or room-temp.
The video was made for an European project to sponsor Mediterranean organic food, called Be Good With Organic Food. Make sure, most of all, to use the best quality extra virgin olive oil you can find and/or afford.
PAPPA AL POMODORO
Serves 4, or 8 as an entrée or side.
300g stale white (or white-ish) bread, cut into cubes
1 liter water or vegetable stock
1-2 cloves of garlic (depending on size and taste), peeled and crushed
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil (plus a drizzle for the end)
700g tomato passata (for suggestions on what to use, see this post + suggestion above)
Salt and pepper to taste
A generous handful of basil leaves (also for decoration)
To finish: burrata, grated cheese, marinated anchovies…
Cube the bread (better if it’s white bread without a strong flavor). Remove the crusts if you prefer. Soak it into a liter of vegetable stock or water for about 30 minutes.
Add the olive oil to a pan and add the garlic. Turn on the heat to medium-low and let the garlic gently fry briefly. When you can clearly smell it, it’s enough. Make sure it doesn’t burn!
Add the tomato passata, salt, and basil leaves that you can tear with your hands. Save some of the leaves for decoration at the end. Let the sauce simmer for 10 minutes, until reduced a bit.
Turn the heat to medium and let the sauce simmer, half covered, for 10 minutes. when you see that it has red
Add the bread to the pot and mix well. Cook until very soft, about 15-20 minutes.
Serve straight away, or - even better, let cool a bit. Serve with a generous drizze of very good extra virgin olive oil and basil leaves.
In the summer, this is great served cold from the fridge. I prefer it a refreshing entrée (see serving suggestions below).
HOW TO SERVE IT:
At the restaurant, we’d make this and shape it with a round steel mold, then cover it with strips of marinated sardines/anchovies. My favorite is to serve it with a few strips of anchovies and burrata.
You can also serve it with a good grating of Parmigiano, Grana, or - even better - ricotta salata.
For a fully vegetarian version, you can serve it with burrata or some food buffalo mozzarella.
Otherwise just slather it on a plate and eat as is.
“Ugly” foods are always the best!
I grew up with pappa al pomodoro, and I find it so fascinating that these recipes, which come from the countryside and the humble cuisine of Tuscany, are still celebrated today! I’ve also written down my grandmother Lorenzina’s version of it!
Thank you so much!