Saturday, 7 August 2010

Bruschetta

Italy is the only place I've ever been where I've gone "Oh my god, so that's what a tomato is supposed to taste like".

So, it's obviously an over-priced disaster ever to order bruschetta in this country - say in a Pizza Express, or worse - where you'll get a couple of under-ripe hydroponic excuses for tomatoes mashed up on some leftover scrag-end of baguette for £5.95.

And don't get me started on heirloom tomatoes, suffice to say Anne coughed-up a snob's tithe for a small tray of multi-coloured cherry tomatoes at the Newport Show the other week, and a glass of water had more taste.

However, last night, home-made bread; home-grown cherry tomatoes; home-grown garlic; home-grown basil; a slug of olive oil, and arriverderci Shifnal, buon giorno Firenze...

Prego.


.

No comments:

Post a Comment