Before I let this blog slip silently into yet another dark, empty, post-less month with nothing but lists, calendars, giveaways and any other manner of pseudo-content squatting unthreatened on the front page and thusly reducing The Delicious Life to little more than an eternally semi-comatose commercial shill site punctuated only with single, spectacular bursts of consciousness that are sadly just re-purposed posts out of the 2006 archive, I feel obligated to write and publish a fresh, new post with some inherent value.
Let me reiterate those last three phrases of last line:
“I feel obligated”
“to write and publish a fresh, new post”
“with some inherent value”
The following notes regarding the three phrases of the last line of the above paragraph-long sentence seeped out my no longer possessing the ability to smoothly transition from one real paragraph sentence into another.
Note 1: I Feel Obligated
I feel obligated to do a lot of things because I am the first born child to immigrant parents and obligation is like a birth order trait or something. But right now, in addition to doing writing, I feel obligated to also apologize in advance for terrible, horrible, wordy McWord word-to-the-mother run on sentenced bad writing.
I blame twitter.
I feel strangely, wildly liberated, writing without sweating the character count in the upper right hand corner of tweetdeck as it dwindles from 4, 3, 2, 1, 0 to -1…OMG there is such a thing as negative character count! You know what I’m talking about. Four characters left?! Rmv vowls, ppl will still undrstnd!
Note 2: To Write and Publish a Fresh, New Post
I would have just plainly said “write” rather than inserting that additional qualifier “and publish” were it not the case that I actually have quite a few half-assedly half-written posts mired my Drafts queue (29 to be exact). So had I just said “write a post,” you might never have seen this one.
Until I tried to re-enter the blogosphere again in 2012, just before we all die anyway.
Note 3: With Some Inherent Value
I would have just plainly said “value” rather than inserting that modifier “inherent” but unmodification would have been confusing because “value” may have been misconstrued. Like all things in life, you never learn the lesson, the moral of the story, the application of the parable, the fortune of the cookie until it’s too fucking late because the wisdom is hidden on the inside.
You will probably not understand the value of this abundantly valuable blog post rich with value until it’s too fucking late because the lesson is inherent and you aren’t getting it until I die.
And if you know me, if you have been following along all along repetitively, if you have been paying careful, close attention to the words, their incorrect usage, and mispronunciation, you are, indeed, getting it.
So There We Have It
So there we have it. A fresh new post! With a recipe for…
…leftover bread that has gone stale.
I can never win, can I?!
Tuscan Bread and Tomato Salad. Yes. Tomatoes. Let’s not mention seasonal obsolescence because 1) really, just as every hour is Happy Hour depending on your time zone, everything is in season depending on your hemisphere, and 2) give me a fucking break; it’s been a rough year.
Panzanella is just a fancytalian name for Tuscan Bread Salad which is just a cover up for “we have stale bread, but we’re not yet out of the economic weeds,” which is the saladacious equivalent of this blog post – a last ditch attempt at juicy, vinaigrette-y salvation before it decomposes into a furry blue and green obscurity.
Panzanella “Stale Bread Salvation by Tomatoes” Salad Recipe
Serves 4. or 1. Depends.
Ingredients for Panzanella
½ to ¾ loaf of stale bread, torn into bite size pieces (if you let an entire loaf go stale, you deserve to throw it away and feel guilty about wasting)
2 ripe tomatoes, diced (and any other vegetables e.g. bell peppers, cucumbers)
½ cup olives, cut in half (I would have included capers if I had them)
Bunch of fresh basil, ooh la la chiffonaded. I know. I hate basil. But I also hate cilantro but I still eat salsa.
1 clove garlic, finely minced
¼ olive oil
¼ red, white, or sparkling wine vinegar
salt + pepper to taste
How to Make the Panzanella:
1. Toss the bread and vegetable in a bowl.
2. Whisk together all the ingredients for the vinaigrette. Toss with the bread and vegetables.
3. Feel good that you didn’t waste stale bread. And that your blog is slowly resuscitating.
Panzanella Salad Around the Web:
~ Panzanella porn
~ Barefoot Contessa’s recipe, which is the first on I ever encountered, reprinted on Leite’s Culinaria
~ Love MsAdventureInItaly’s insistence on low maintenace, no cooking, i.e. not to toast the bread
~ Panzanella that includes mozzarella cheese at AllRecipes
~ Epicurious makes a version with grilled bread and vegetables
~ Giada de Laurentiis composes her salad in layers in a roasting pan. Not sure why.