La Buona Cucina: Reheating Bread

Monday, March 3, 2008

Reheating Bread

Reheating Bread

In order to reheat homemade hearth or Italian Bread simply follow these basic rules:

Place bread in paper bag (I save some from grocery shopping just for this purpose)

Spray the bag with water pretty liberally but do not soak

Place on pan in oven at 350 for a few minutes (maybe 5-10) but do not “rebake” the bread!

Serve warm and enjoy!

1 comment:

Roy said...: OMG. THANK YOU. I'm a guy who knows nothing about cooking and the last time I tried to buy some premade Italian Bread and heat it up in the oven it came out all burnt. I've just spent over 30 minutes searching for what temperature and for how long to heat it for. So anyways, thanks for this post...

...though I'm going to pass on the paper bag thing. Somehow sticking paper in the oven just seems like a recipe for disaster for someone of my dubious skills. ;); October 11, 2009 at 4:40 PM

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Food Memories

Italian Lemon Squeezer
My Dad used to squeeze a lemon with his teeth! He would cut it in half, squeeze it with his hands, and then finish by placing it in his mouth and biting down!

Eat your Fegato!
My Mom used to make liver once a month, in Italian called Fegato, and I hated it. I would sit at the table for hours just staring at it hoping it would just go away. Sometimes I think I can still hear her saying, "Annuccia, Eat your Fegato!"

Cavallo Stew
One time I almost ate horse meat! My great grandmother, Nona Cornacchio, who was from Naples, Italy where it was perfectly acceptable to eat horse, had us over for a nice "beef" stew. My Mom took a bite and then quickly gave us a sign to stop eating, I swear we understood sign language, as soon as my Nona left the room my Mom swiftly dumped the bowls back in the pot. When my Nona came back we all sat there rubbing our bellies and saying how good it was!

Clink... clank... clink.... clank....clink

As a small child the sound of a whisk beating rapidly against a metal bowl could mean only one thing, zabaglione! I remember my Daddy would never let us know ahead of time that he was making zabaglione but rather he loved to surprise us with that melodious sound of....... clank clink clank clink clank clink....... ringing from the kitchen and then we would come running from all corners of the house to watch the magic........that little blob of egg yolk, sugar, and liquid sitting at the bottom of the bowl would all of the sudden become a light fluffy mound of pure bliss! We just drank it from espresso cups using a little demitasse spoon to get the last little drops at the bottom. And every New Years Eve my Daddy would start the magic as it neared midnight, what a wonderfully decadent way to start the new year: champagne & zabaglione!

You say Tomato...
When my husband and I were dating we were out one day and decided to stop for a quick bite to eat at a hamburger place. As soon as he got his burger he opened it up and hastily removed the tomato asking me if I would like it. I love tomatoes and felt there was never enough fresh veggies on my burger so I grabbed it and slapped on my burger. We still continue this ritual to this day. Truly a match made in Foodie Heaven!

Pizza, Pizza!
We ate pizza atleast once a week growing up and my Dad and I had a funny little system. You see he loved the cheese but couldn't stand the hard crust and I loved the crust but couldn't stomach all that gooey cheese. So I would start by removing all of my cheese and placing it on top of his pizza. Then he would eat the pizza all the way up to the crust and the hand me the crust.

Cappuccino and Croissant Merci!
When I was a little girl my Mom, like many others, liked to reward us with a treat when we made good grades. I remember this quaint little place in downtown Charleston called Jackies that was one of her favorite places to take us to. She would pick us up straight from school and we would sit at a table for two on the back porch and order croissant with real butter and cappuccino. I felt so cosmopolitan in downtown Charleston in my school uniform sipping cappuccino.

Musical Pasta
My Dad used to play music with his pasta! He would always grab one tube of pasta out of the box before dumping it in the water. Then he would hold it to his lips just so and blow. I can still see him walking around the house tooting out The Drinking Song from Verdi's La Traviata as we waited for the rest of the pasta to cook.

La Buona Cucina

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Monday, March 3, 2008

Reheating Bread

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