Part 1 of a 2 Part (Future) Series …
Sometimes colour alone can catch you in its web. That’s what happened with the grape studded flatbread schiacciata con l’uva. It’s vibrant, purple core captivated me instantly, and after tasting it, I fell hard for this sweet bread.
But like many crushes, my devotion is riddled with complications. For starters, schiacciata con l’uva is only available for several weeks of the year in September (October if you are lucky) that coincide with the grape harvest or, la vendemmia. Also, it’s a Florentine specialty so for me, that means legging it across the border into neighbouring Tuscany to find it freshly baked. Lastly, my efforts to make it, while smashing in the looks department, in both texture and taste have lagged. Not disasters as such, but they are no match for the shop bought variety. Curse it!
Hmmmm … so why am I even writing about this? Believe me, I have tried not to. But every time I attempt to create a different blog post my thoughts, and my typing fingers return to schiacciata con l’uva. Odd, no? I mean, who blogs about recipes that have fallen short? Who wants to read about them?
Truly, I don’t know, but the grape harvest is on all around me, and it’s as if, the sweet bread itself is insisting that I pay it some attention. Picture Veruka Salt stamping her feet and demanding “I want a flying glass elevator”, and you’re starting to get the picture. The tone is less painful but nevertheless it’s a consistent message saying “put me in your blog. NOW!!!”.
So the compromise – I am writing this mini post, and calling it “Part 1, of a 2 Part (Future) Series”, with plans to return, armed with a killer recipe and a technique that performs in the looks, taste, and texture departments.
In the meantime, here’s the scoop on Schiacciata con l’uva.
The recipe calls for small, sweet black grapes, known in Italy as uva fragola or strawberry grapes (also used to make the sweet wine fragolino). The grapes are layered between, and on top of, 2 layers of dough along with a generous sprinkling of sugar. As the bread cooks, some of the grapes remain whole, while others split open, their juices oozing out to create a deliciously tasty and strikingly gorgeous dough. Some recipes, also add rosemary, anise or fennel which give an extra dimension of interest and some dazzle.
Schiacciata which means squashed, is the name of the main Tuscan flatbread. Outside of Italy, it is probably recognized as focaccia, and indeed it shares the same basic ingredients of flour, yeast, oil, water, sugar, and salt as the Genoa classic. This sweet, grape smothered schiacciata is very different from the classic salty version, which is often filled with salami, or eaten topped with veggies or cheeses (also very yum).
The technique is a simple one believed to be developed in the days before the use of pie dishes whereby a dough is made and divided in two. One piece is rolled out in an oblong shape, and the filling is placed on top, leaving a border around the edge. The second piece, is then rolled out and placed over the filling, and the edges of the lower piece are folded up to form a seal. In the case of schiacciata con l’uva the grape juice from either the top or centre, frequently leaks out to form a little billabong of jammy yumminess around the edges of the bread. For me, the messiness of it all, just adds to its rustic appeal. And the purple colour – rare, mysterious, and imaginative – well, it just isn’t something I can keep quiet about (even when I’ve no recipe to offer).
