A few weeks ago when the news of me going to Italy for my boyfriend’s sister’s wedding became official, one of the first thoughts to rush through my head (and consequently get voiced in an email shortly thereafter) was, “Ooooh! I wonder if I’ll make it in time for some schiacciata all’uva?”
The fall, starting in late September, is grape harvest season in Tuscany. The vendemmia, as it’s known over in those parts, is when grapes get snipped off their branches and sent to be turned into wine. But some of those grapes, the small, round, bluish ones that make deep red wines, go into a wholly different treat: schiacciata all’uva. This sticky, slightly tart, sweet focaccia is baked full of the dark grapes, so that when the schiacciata comes out of the oven, the grapes have shriveled and bled into the bread, dying the golden dough with their deep purple juice.
The one pictured here was from a small shop on via de’ Macci near via dell’ Agnolo near my old apartment. It was messy and gooey, sweet but with a hint of sour, soft but with a thick crust on one side. It was delicious. Just how I remembered it.
I want I want I want I want