The sheep in the adjoining field are very keen on bread, in all its varied forms. They are keen on it because we, not being farmers but eaters of farmers’ produce, have fed them the bread, for which we have no further use, and the sheep couldn’t be happier. They could be happier, but couldn’t we all. Giving them stale bread is as far as I can go in bringing happiness to sheep, particularly as the sheep in question are barely acquaintances of mine. A line has to be drawn somewhere and drawing it between me and sheep pleasuring is in the true spirit of the Alamo. Sacrifices have to be made.
Already I hear an uproar in the cheap seats ” Shame on you, sir, casting brioche before swine…or sheep like swine”. There is no question that I have been remiss when it comes to stale bread. I know I should be making wonderful soups with stale bread, fresh tomatoes and olive oil….which I do. I should be tearing it, toasting it and titivating salads with it. But I forget because I’ve seen or thought something more glamorous or toothsome. And then, Epiphany, I remembered “pangritata” which simultaneously put the sheep on a carb free slimming diet whilst providing us with joy and deliciousness. The simplicity of the “poor man’s parmesan” suits me admirably. I’m waiting for Lidl’s to make their well priced Parmesan even better priced….cheaper is the word I’m looking for.
The delight of pangritata is that there is no recipe nor rules. Cucina Povera doesn’t work well with rules except the need for Cucina when you’re Povera. In this particular case I created some bread crumbs from the end of an old pain cereale. I added lemon zest, black pepper and ssa salt. I did also add some poor man’s Parmesan Reggiano to the poor man’s bread crumbs which is unfair, but so is life. To prepare the pangritata for the pasta: heat a little olive oil in a pan, add the breadcrumbs and let them gently turn a golden colour. Tip a spoonful over your pasta and stir it through. Very good and sheep.
Those poor sheep wouldn’t stand a chance with me – I’d lay a trail of breadcrumbs round to the wood shed. Don’t tell the farmer 😉
Oddly enough they are called Hansel and Gretel….well, from now on they are:)
ROFL 🙂
Shhh; don’ mention the cheap part. Focus on the delicious part.
Was that the sheep part?
I have never heard of poor man’s parmesan, Roger. Dang you.
🙂
Good old Lidl parmesan. “ewed” be mad not to buy it! Great shot of a wonderful dish.
That’s a sheep shot:)
Stale bread reminded me of the taramasalata dip I had at a restaurant in Alabama. It was quite enjoyable, and they post their recipes online.
http://www.nabeels.com/recipes.html
I haven’t made taramasalata in a long time. I should…thanks for the idea:)
What a thing! I’m now going to stop wasting good parmesan on my ungrateful toddler. Thanks, Roger!
I think he’ll love them.
I couldn’t stop myself from giggling through this post–you have a fantastic sense of humor! Can’t wait to read even more about your sheep and cooking experiences
Thanks a lot for checking out my blog and I’m glad you’re enjoying it.
Thank you!
🙂
The pasta really speaks to me! 🙂
It’s talkative stuff:)
Hmmm.. fattening those sheep for some other occasion are we? I suspect so.. but if you did I’d have to become a vegetarian, if only to protest. Love this recipe, the idea of it being cheap, I need to be cheaper and pinch a few more pennies these days. Btw.. love this line “which is unfair, but so is life”, just putting that out there, too funny!
The sheep aren’t ours, so I guess your worst fears may come to fruition. At least they’re having a pleasant life, which is more than can be said for a lot of humans. Sorry about that bit of seriousness.:)
Cucina Povera can actually be fun if you know that something more exciting may be around the corner the next day! Have done ‘that’ pasta heaps: now I have a name 🙂 ! And don’t make fun at the expense of the poor darling sheep: you would not think of feeding your unwanted extras to them, if you did not somewhat care 😀 !!!
I’ll check my manners with regard to those sheep in future…promise:)
Made me laugh.
Love the looks of that old grater….
A faithful old mouli. I gave up in the end and used the Magimix:)
My bread is so stale the sheep would break their teeth on it. Alternatively, I could hit them over the head with my week-old baguette and you can sort out the BBQ.
I always worry about the bread being to hard but, for herbivores, they seem to have jaws like earth movers. They chomp through anything:)
The grater may be hard to use but what a great prop – makes for a superb image!
Glad you liked it:)
At least you know the sheep will have been well fed if you get to eat it 🙂
Not going to happen, but you’re right:)
Clever as ever! The story of the sheep reminded me of a postcard that I once sent from Ireland to an Englishman friend. On the front was a picture of a sheep at pasture, with the title “Missing Ewe”. I scribbled some nonsense on the back about hoping he’d return to me soon, and signed it, “Love, Deirdre.” His wife was not amused!
I was not familiar with the term “pangritata” and you inspired me to Google it. I discovered that I had eaten it before, in a now defunct Sicilian Restaurant in New York. It was spread on a dish of Spaghetti con Sarde, which my father had always raved about, and which his mother used to make. You have motivated me to attempt to re-create it. Thanks!
Spaghetti con Sarde is wonderful. This coast is famous for sardines and anchovies.
Reblogged this on The Literate Chef and commented:
A humorous posting with great photos. I commented on it as follows: Clever as ever! The story of the sheep reminded me of a postcard that I once sent from Ireland to an Englishman friend. On the front was a picture of a sheep at pasture, with the title “Missing Ewe”. I scribbled some nonsense on the back about hoping he’d return to me soon, and signed it, “Love, Deirdre.” His wife was not amused!
I was not familiar with the term “pangritata” and you inspired me to Google it. I discovered that I had eaten it before, in a now defunct Sicilian Restaurant in New York. It was spread on a dish of Spaghetti con Sarde, which my father had always raved about, and which his mother used to make. You have motivated me to attempt to re-create it. Thanks!
Great grater, Roger! I’ve never been sure if I bought that poor man’s Parmesan theory, but the crumbs can be awfully delicious.
It’s like the famous “stone” soup.
And I always bin my stale bread… What a sin. I must try harder!
This is a traditional pasta dish that we have on Christmas eve. Rich or poor, I love the crunch the breadcrumbs add.
We’re having breadcrumbs with a pepperonata sauce on our pasta tonight…
What’s up everyone, it’s my first visit at this website, and
piece of writing is really fruitful for me, keep up posting such articles.