I have been gardening in earnest since the frost risk passed and the garden is coming along the way it does — with the particular combination of control and surprise that makes it a good teacher. I planted things in the places I planned and some of them are thriving and some of them have decided they would prefer to be somewhere else, and the garden's preference is not really optional. You accommodate or you lose the plant.
The tomatoes are going in strong, two rows this year, the heirlooms on the left and the romas on the right, which is more tomatoes than I can use alone, which was exactly the plan. Dorothea next door has already been by twice to check on them. I told her the first harvest is hers and she acted like I'd offered her something more valuable than tomatoes, which reminded me of something Bernice used to say: you never know what people are doing without until you offer them the thing they didn't know to ask for.
CJ called Wednesday to talk about something he has been turning over in his mind — he and Shanice are thinking about buying a house. They have been in the apartment since before they married and they are ready for space of their own, a yard, a kitchen that is larger than the current one. He asked if I had any advice. I said: buy the one that feels like you could grow old in it, not the one that feels like you could grow out of it. He said, that's the clearest thing anyone has told us in this whole process. I said, write it down, I'm not going to say it again. He laughed, which is how I know he didn't write it down, which means he already knew it.
With two rows of tomatoes coming in and Dorothea already making her rounds, I wanted something on the counter that felt like it belonged alongside the first harvest — something you could slice thick and hand over with a tomato still warm from the vine. Italian bread is what I reach for in these moments: it asks just enough of you to feel worthwhile, and it makes the kind of gift that does not need an explanation.
Italian Bread
Prep Time: 20 minutes + rising | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 2 hours 45 minutes | Servings: 16 slices (2 loaves)
Ingredients
- 2 packages (1/4 oz each) active dry yeast
- 2 cups warm water (110° to 115°F)
- 1 teaspoon sugar
- 2 teaspoons salt
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 5 to 5 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, divided
- 1 egg white, lightly beaten
- 1 tablespoon cold water
- Sesame seeds or cornmeal for dusting (optional)
Instructions
- Activate the yeast. In a large bowl, dissolve yeast in warm water with the sugar. Let stand 5 to 10 minutes until foamy.
- Mix the dough. Stir in salt and olive oil. Gradually add 4 cups of flour, mixing until a shaggy dough forms. Turn onto a floured surface and knead in remaining flour, a little at a time, until dough is smooth and elastic, about 8 to 10 minutes.
- First rise. Place dough in a greased bowl, turning once to coat. Cover with a clean towel and let rise in a warm place until doubled, about 1 to 1 1/2 hours.
- Shape the loaves. Punch dough down. Divide in half and shape each portion into a long, tapered loaf. Place on greased baking sheets dusted lightly with cornmeal, if desired.
- Second rise. Cover and let rise until doubled again, about 30 to 45 minutes. Meanwhile, preheat oven to 400°F.
- Score and glaze. With a sharp knife, make 4 to 5 diagonal cuts across the top of each loaf. Mix egg white and cold water; brush over loaves. Sprinkle with sesame seeds if desired.
- Bake. Bake at 400°F for 22 to 26 minutes, or until loaves are golden brown and sound hollow when tapped on the bottom. Cool on wire racks before slicing.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 155 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 1g | Carbs: 30g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 295mg