From fiction to Focaccia

Despite a range of tasty dishes that I have cooked, and had cooked for me, this week I have been somewhat un-inspired. Recipe highlights include an attempt at my Mum's fish pie, which turned out ok but I felt was still a poor imitation, and Andrew's impressive-sounding Duck in Port and Berry Sauce, a good but not astounding recipe found in Good Housekeeping. The lowlight, I'm ashamed to say, would be the loaf of reduced-to-clear cheap white bread that I demolished over the course of just a few days.

By Saturday I was thoroughly foodie-dejected and took myself out to the shops to find some comfort in buying clothes for my fast-approaching South Africa trip. A few hours of retail therapy soon had me back on my game and I decided to treat myself to lunch at an independent cafe on Belmont Street called Kilau http://www.kilaucoffee.wordpress.com/ I have been quite cynical of this place in the past - accusing their staff of spending more time on their hairstyles than on the coffee. I'm glad I settled on here for my late Saturday lunch, though, as they do a very fine Chorizo and Goats Cheese Salad to which I was allowed to add a side of bread for no extra charge. I take back everything negative I've ever said, Kilau is a good-food place and not just a 'cool-dude' place.

All this is an aside, though, to my main point that this week my real foodie delights have been literary ones. Prior to lunch at Kilau I popped into the Oxfam shop to, as Carrie Bradshaw said, acquire some 'dining-alone armour' in the form of a 2nd hand book. I chose a novel sweetly titled 'Recipes for Cherubs' by Babs Horton. Ten minutes later, happily snuggled in one of Kilau's giant armchairs, I discovered that this choice was the panacea to all my food-woes. A literary great it is not, but it is a fine tale inter-weaving stories of love and food between a small, hilltop village in eighteenth century Italy and a 1960s delapidated, rural Welsh hotel.

Italy. Food. Love. Three themes that, when combined, have inspired a veritable genre of their own in fiction and travel writing, and for good reason. I bet I'm not the only one who has read and re-read Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat Pray Love but couldn't care less what she gets up to in India or Indonesia. I'm only interested in her adventures in Italy with cream-puff eating football fans, perfect pizza in Naples and the strength of her belief that food cures all ills. In an equally compelling fictional tale Anthony Capella's The Food of Love has been making my stomach rumble since Yasmin gave me it for Christmas a few years back. Here the lead character helps his best friend woo an American girl by cooking the most exquisite dishes. Capella describes these in such detail that it is almost unfair on a greedy reader like me.

Yet, despite all this, I have never been to Italy. Shame on me - what have I been thinking? Until I get round to righting this wrong, Italy will just have to come to me and Recipes for Cherubs had me excited about one recipe in particular: Focaccia. This Italian bread-wonder was exactly the sort of food I had been craving all week. Simple and comforting, a recipe that would fill me up but also fill the house with that happy, homely fragrance in the manner that only bread (and the best of coffees...) can. True, focaccia may not have your lover in raptures like some of the recipes in The Food of Love but it does have some romantic connatations. I read somewhere once, I think it was Fred Plotkin's Recipes from Paradise, that fish-wives would eat large portions of onion focaccia before their husbands and partners went off to sea. They would plant giant, oniony kisses on their lovers to ensure their fidelity in the next port - after all, who wants to kiss onion breath? I think that is a great love story.

Here is my recipe for your own focaccia, adapted from Tessa Kiros' Apples for Jam. I have added rosemary sprigs and rock-salt to reflect the description in Recipes for Cherubs. Do not worry if your dough seems far too sticky or elastic. Just use flour on your finger-tips to add the dimples and have faith. Enjoy this in any fashion that you see fit. I adulterated mine with very cheap, orange cheddar and the last of my christmas chutney and, you know what, it made me very happy.

FOCACCIA

435ml warm water

20g fresh yeast, or 10g (around a heaped teaspoon) active dry yeast.

1 teaspoon honey

1 tablespoon olive oil

600g plain flour

1 and a half teaspoons salt

For the topping:

125ml hot water

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 teaspoon salt (table)

a generous sprinkle, rock salt

fresh rosemary sprigs

Place the water, yeast, honey, olive oil and around 100g of the plain flour into a large bowl. Mix this up until very smooth, preferably with electric mixers, although I used a balloon whisk. Set aside, covered in a tea-towel for 20-30 minutes until it looks foamy and frothy on top. Mix in the rest of the flour with the salt. Tessa suggests this should be mixed with a dough-hook. Failing that, I simply mixed well with my hands. A very messy job with this elasticated dough. Cover the bowl with a couple of cloths and leave in a warm place for about an hour and a half, or until it has puffed up.

Lightly oil a baking tray and empty your dough on to this. Spread the dough out gently, it will be more like stretching it to fill the space as it will be very soft. Make sure it does not break anywhere. Put this baking tray somewhere warm for a further 45 minutes, covering it again with a cloth - this may require a few well-placed glasses and the construction of a tea-towel tent so as not to stick your cloth to the dough!

Towards the end of this 45 minutes, heat your oven to the highest temperature and prepare the topping. I had my oven up at 250 degrees C. In a small-bowl mix the warm water, oil and table salt until the salt is dissolved. When your dough is ready, use your finger-tips to make the distinctive focaccia dimples across the surface of the dough. Then brush on your water/oil mixture. There is no need to use all of it, simply get a good covering. Then sprinkle over your rock salt and place a few sprigs or rosemary in each dimple. Your focaccia is ready to bake for 20-30 minutes or until it is golden, crusty and sounds hollow when tapped. Eat this warm, cold, re-heated, anyway you like but make sure you have a smile on your face.

One last word...

Before I say Arrivederci, if you are looking for a simply sumptious Italian cookbook you could do a lot worse than Mary Contini's Valvona and Crolla: A Year at an Italian Table. Although sadly lacking in a focaccia recipe, this book is a great addition to any groaning cookery bookshelf - full of stories about the Edinburgh based Italian deli of the same name. It is coming to bed with me tonight and will be the only Italian I'll ever sleep with if Andrew has his way. For more information check out http://www.valvonacrolla.co.uk/