One of my best friends from college and his wonderful significant other visited me this past weekend, and we made a feast. A summer feast. All things meant to be eaten cold, which worked well in 90-degree heat. Orechiette with beef and arugula tossed in fresh balsamic vinaigrette (thanks Giada), salada chilena, and berries and fresh vanilla bean whipped cream.
And also, of course, something baked. Specifically, this ridiculously easy, totally delicious focaccia. We plucked fresh herbs from my apartment building’s urn garden, bright parsley and fragrant basil.
Sprinkled liberally with tangy, lasting grey sea salt and a hint of black pepper, we baked the softly puffy dough till it was golden and crisp and ready to serve (and snack on, while pasta was cooking).
I am generally fearful of things that require yeast (yes, even pretzel buns), but this focaccia doesn’t even make me break a sweat, and it only takes a short afternoon to fix up. Couldn’t be easier–or more impressive.
Chelsea Bakes 