As I’ve been sorting through my mom’s papers and photographs, a number of gems have already emerged: postcards from her trip to the U.S.S.R.; her diary from her sojourn in Africa (both trips were key elements in her narrative); my grandmother’s wedding announcement; my maternal grandparents’ immigration papers…

But nothing brought a bigger smile to my face than the discovery of Judy’s handwritten panzanella recipe.

Judy first tasted panzanella — the classic Tuscan summer bread salad — when I took her to Bagno Vignoni, a small village in Montalcino wine country where a thermal pool occupies the space of the town square. The year was 1989 and I was in my second academic year at the University of Padua.

My friend Riccardo’s mother spoke no English at all. But she took my mom by the hand and led her to her kitchen where they prepared her first panzanella together. What a magical moment that was.

Judy was fiercely proud of her panzanella recipe and she loved to tell the story of how she learned it — a great tale to share at her epic dinner parties.

I’m so geeked to post it here.

Now that I’m no longer traveling in the food and wine world two weeks every month, I’ve been thinking about what I should write about here.

Judy’s recipe was just the food for thought I needed.

Panzanella

1/2 lb. stale or toasted Italian bread
2 large ripe tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and diced
2 small red onions, minced
1/3 cup black olives, pitted
1 bunch of basil leaves, stemmed and cut into thin strips
3 cans tuna packed in oil
4 garlic cloves, chopped
2 tbsp. red wine vinegar
salt and pepper
1/2 cup olive oil

Soak bread in water to cover. Squeeze to remove water. Crumble into mixing bowl. Add tomatoes, onions, olives, basil, tuna, and garlic. Toss together.

In small bowl, whisk the vinegar with pinch of salt and pepper until dissolved. Whisk in olive oil. Pour over salad and toss before serving.

Serves 4.