Il Pane a Tavola

Bread stands at the centre of the Italian table because the peninsula grew wheat in nearly every region, and each region came to shape its loaf to local grain, local fuel and local habit. Carol Field, in The Italian Baker, organises her account by region rather than by type, and the arrangement itself states the principle: there is no single Italian bread, only the bread of a place and of the meal it accompanies.

In the Italian household the loaf is not a course but the ground on which the courses rest. It is set on the table before the meal begins and remains until the plates are cleared, and it is used to complete what the cook has made: to gather the sauce left on the plate, to accompany cheese and cured meats, and to temper the salt and fat of the food around it. Field's regional approach shows how closely the form of the loaf follows the character of the cooking it serves. Tuscan bread, made without salt, is the clearest case. Field presents pane toscano as a loaf suited to a cuisine of strongly seasoned meats, salumi, and dishes of olive oil and pecorino, where an unsalted crumb gives relief rather than competing. The same plain bread, once stale, passes into the kitchen as the base of ribollita, panzanella and pappa al pomodoro, so that the loaf serves the table twice, fresh and then cooked. The use of the stale loaf is a matter of the household economy, and Field treats it as part of the bread's proper life, not as a salvage. In the south the loaf is larger and more durable. Field describes the great rounds of Puglia and the hard-baked breads of the south and the islands, made from durum wheat semolina, that keep for days and carry a firm, yellow-tinged crumb. In Sardinia she records the thin, crisp pane carasau, which keeps for long periods and is softened with water or broth for use at the table. These breads are built to last between bakings, and their structure reflects the rhythm of the household that made them. The northern and coastal regions give other forms. Field records the olive-oil-rich focaccia of Liguria, eaten at any hour and not confined to the formal meal, and the small, crusted rolls and breadsticks of the north that sit beside the plate at a laid table. Bread also marks the calendar: Field gives breads and sweet loaves made for feast days and for particular saints and seasons, whose shapes and enrichments set them apart from the daily loaf. What unites these breads is their relation to the meal. Each is made to serve the food that surrounds it, whether by absence of salt, by firmness of crust, by richness of oil or by capacity to keep. To understand the Italian table, the cook must therefore ask of any loaf what it is meant to accompany, and Field's regional order of the book is the surest guide to that answer.

At table the loaf is a neutral and balancing element: its crumb takes up olive oil, broth and sauce, and its crust offers a dry contrast to soft and rich dishes. The unsalted Tuscan loaf shows the principle most plainly, since it lets the seasoned food speak while the bread supplies texture and relief.