Every meal has a story.
This morning I saw the bread that I bought at yesterday’s market and decided I wanted toast. But I thought, “This won’t be just any toast. This is Maorizio’s rustic loaf—perfect for bruschetta.”
I don’t usually eat bruschetta for breakfast, but a flat of my good friend Michael’s heirloom tomatoes were staring me in the face. They are so sweet and delicious, I thought to myself, “better than jam.”
Bruschetta means “slightly burned,” the grill marks that sear on the bread when it’s toasted on an open fire. For my breakfast version, I toasted the bread, eliminated the garlic and spread butter instead, which melted quickly with that aroma of home that comes together like nothing other than bread and butter. I sliced the tomatoes and put a few basil leaves on top. You might say, “Why is this different from a tomato sandwich?” Because it isn’t.
It’s breakfast bruschetta because I said so, because I am leaving for Italy in two days and if it’s anything, it’s mezzo mezzo. Maorizio’s bread and Michael’s tomatoes merit a good salute. For the sake of invention on this fine day when I should be packing instead of posting…it is what it is.
> A few slices of fine crusty bread
> Good butter (in this case I used buffalo butter, which I’d recently found at Alfalfa’s Market)
> Ripe tomatoes, preferably home grown if you can find them, or have a generous friend.
> Course sea salt
> Fresh basil
> Extra virgin olive oil
Toast the bread in a toaster, or in the oven or on an open fire. Slather with butter. Slice tomatoes and place on the bread. Sprinkle with coarse sea salt. Dab a few basil leaves top. Drizzle with extra virgin olive oil (mine was just pressed from Chile. If you’re in Boulder, you can find it in Alfalfa’s bulk oil dept.)
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