Gluten-free focaccia recipe- with tomato, herbs and garlic.
Italian Flatbread for a Blue Moon
An Italian focaccia flatbread recipe from the archives- because this lovely bread is just too good not to share with all you new readers. When my husband and I were on our honeymoon we ate focaccia every morning for breakfast. After a few cappuccinos, that is. Six between us. To fortify us for the walk across the piazza to the tiny bakery. After all, we were in Italy. Doing what you do in Italy.
Rub the garlic infused sleep from your eyes.
Pull on your jeans.
Walk to the local espresso bar.
The always smiling owner of the Podere Villuzza would greet us every morning on our way out the door, wishing us, Good day, for your blue moon!
I am thinking about our honeymoon today because our anniversary just passed. March is our month. And this time around marked our eighteenth. [How is that even possible"]
In so many ways we are just getting started. It still feels new. Even through the toughest years- in New Mexico, the most difficult of our marriage. The most isolated. We wonder aloud over root beer and popcorn how we got through it, how we wandered into that commitment, buying that tiny casita in the middle of an empty, windswept desert. On impulse. Investing all we had in curved adobe walls and tile floors tough enough to break a hip on.
We look into each others eyes for answers.
There are none.
We were bewitched, I tell my husband. We were infatuated. With the light. The summer monsoon skies. The smell of roasting chile. It was a seduction. The desert pulled us in and whispered stories in our ear, weaving her magic like a smoke screen, letting us feel as if we belonged there. Soothing our east coast gringo fears that it might be rough giving up our roots, our community, the quick jaunt to fetch the morning newspaper, grab an espresso, or browse in a book store.
We believed in the power of space and sky. We imagined inspi...