We'll Always Have Bread

Pangrattato makes breadcrumbs sexy

It may seem a bit bonkers to write about stale bread in the middle of the summer, but hear me out.

Given my epic whining and moaning about the short summer growing season and consequent scarcity of nice vegetables for much of the year you would expect that on the first Friday in August I’d be writing about fresh tomatoes, zucchini, or some gorgeous summer fruit.   And that’s the thing – it’s all gorgeous.  Beautiful summer produce needs little or no embellishment, at least until we get sick of it.  Corn on the cob with fresh butter, tomato sandwiches on soft white bread, cucumbers with just a pinch of flaky salt, cherries by the handful – the produce is the star of the show and its short appearance on the calendar ensures that it rarely wears out its welcome.

But you know what does wear out its welcome? Stale bread.

Stale bread is a hazard of nearly every bread-eating household.  Whether you buy it or bake it yourself you will, on a semi-regular basis, have bits of bread that are past their best-before date. And yes, you can make croutons and breadcrumbs and French toast and freeze it and revive it with various hacks, but using up stale bread is still an ongoing project, year-round.

What if you made breadcrumbs, but made them, like, sexy breadcrumbs?

Pangrattato is, quite simply, grated bread. The Italian word makes it sound a whole lot sexier than the ploddingly-English “crumbs”. But the inelegant crumbs can be transformed with a few simple ingredients and a quick toasting in a hot pan. The crumbs can coarse or fine and flavoured in any number of ways. They are great anywhere a little Maillard goodness and crunch would be welcome, and, let’s be honest, that’s pretty much everywhere and anywhere.

You can put pangrattato on pasta, on grilled, steamed or roasted vegetables, on a salad, and eat it by the handful while it’s still warm from the pan. It keeps a few days in the fridge in a sealed container, but you know it won’t last that long.

It’s sometimes said that pangrattato is the “poor man’s parmesan”. That’s not wrong, but it doesn’t go far enough in explaining its appeal. Pangrattato has an awesome texture that the hard aged cheeses lack, and if you really can’t live without your cheese you can add it! Vegans and other plant-eaters can have it their way too without compromising on flavour. If you’re brave enough to add some anchovies to the mix you can add a whole other layer of flavour that might just make you a believer in the humble fish. Let’s simply say that you’ve got plenty of options.

And the ingredients I suggest are a guideline only. They each play a role but you can substitute to your heart’s content. Quantities are merely hints, so do feel free to adjust as you see fit.

You’re going to wish you had more stale bread.

The Gear:

• Cutting board

• Knife

• Heavy frying pan

• Food processor or chopper

• Citrus zester

• Heat safe spatula

The Ingredients:

• Stale bread (hard, but not rock solid), crusts included (about 2-3 slices)

• Olive oil (about 1/2 cup, divided)

• Fresh garlic, finely chopped (3-4 cloves)

• Anchovies or anchovy paste (2-3 small fillets)

• Dried chili flakes (a big pinch)

• Zest of a lemon

• Flat leaf parsley, medium-to-finely chopped (about 1/2 a cup)

• Salt and pepper, to taste

The Technique:

• Break your stale bread into medium chunks.

  

• Blitz bread in processor until you have crumbs that look like this.

  

• Toss bread crumbs with about half the oil until it is the texture of slightly wet sand. Season with salt and pepper.

  

• Heat the rest of the oil in the heavy frying pan over medium heat. Add chopped garlic, anchovies, and chili flakes. Stir to crush anchovies. Lower heat if needed to keep garlic from burning.

  

• Add breadcrumbs and cook, stirring occasionally, until toasty and crunchy (about 3-5 minutes).

  

• Pour breadcrumbs onto a plate to cool.

  

• When slightly cooled, toss with lemon zest and chopped parsley, then season to taste with salt and pepper.

  

The trick, though it hardly counts as such, is tossing the breadcrumbs with oil before adding them to the pan. This ensures that they are evenly coated and will therefore toast evenly. If you are so inclined you can heat and infuse your oil with the garlic et al and then toss the crumbs, but it seems like more work to me. You could do the actual toasting in the oven too, but that would dirty another pan. This really ought not be a messy project, but if those work better for your way of thinking go right ahead.

And, incidentally, there’s no rule that pangrattato must be savoury. Brioche crumbs toasted in olive oil and tossed with orange zest? Yes please! Brown butter banana bread pangrattato on ice cream?! Or ditch the “bread” part entirely and toast the crumbly bits from the bottom of your cereal box for cornflake pangrattato, made either savoury or sweet.

And what happened to my crumbs today? They made a nice lunch with some pasta aglio olio. You probably don’t need a recipe, but just in case.

A few cherry tomatoes would have been nice, but alas they may be a few weeks yet. But we’ll always have bread.