As you know, I currently working my way through quite a large hunk of ‘nduja. Even though I’ve given quite a bit of it away, I’m still knee deep in spicy sausage spread.
I find that whenever I have any ingredient I don’t quite know what to do with, the most straight forward answer is always bruschetta. Toasted bread topped with just about anything is always a good idea, right?
Plus? If we’re not near an open fire I get the chance to use my nifty little bruschetta maker. This small tin grill is one of those ingenious Italian inventions that allows Italian cooks to get the most out of their stove top. Just think of it as the same family as the Moka. They are becoming harder to find these days, not because they don’t make them anymore (they do) but because the types of stores where they are sold are becoming rarer and rarer.
Every neighborhood used to have several little stores that sold just about everything a housewife could need. Packed to the rafters, these ‘casalinga’ shops sold everything from soaps and brooms to knifes and forks. And, of course, Mokas and bruschetta grills.
With rising rents and high competition from big name stores like Ikea these little shops are a dying breed. Happily there are still a couple of these stores left in my neighborhood of Monti, but over near Campo de’ Fiori the only place left to buy this kind of stuff is one stand left in the market.
Thank goodness I have quite a few of these little grills, so I”m all set for any bruschetta possibility that comes my way. All you need to do is turn on the flame, add cut bread, and watch carefully – flipping every now and again so it doesn’t burn – and you have the basis for one of life’s greatest and easiest meals.
While I’ve been known to top bruschetta with everything from tomatoes (a classic) to wild asparagus and pork, this time around I spiced things up. A schmear of ‘nduja and a pile of wilted beet greens was the perfect combo. The fatty ‘nduja melted into the hot crusty bread and the slightly sweet beet greens tamed down the spice just enough. I also love the red stems against the day glo orange of the ‘nduja which made it all seem rather more festive than toast.
But really? Want to know the part I love the most? How often do you get to use the words ‘schmear’ and ‘nduja in the same sentence?
beet green + nduja {bruschetta}
Prep
Cook
Total
Yield 4
I used beet greens in this recipe because I had them. When buying beets try to find them with the fresh leafs still attached. They have a sweetness that spinach or swiss chard never have. Plus? Love those brilliant red stems! But if you don’t have any beet greens, any sort of wilted greens will do just fine.
Ingredients
- Greens from one bunch of beets
- 4 1/2 inch slices of crusty Italian bread
- 8 tsp of ‘nduja (more or less)
- 3 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 tsp salt
Instructions
- Rinse the beet greens and cut them up roughly into 1 inch wide ribbons.
- Heat the olive oil in a frying pan and then add the beet greens and salt. Add about a quarter cup of water and cook until wilted and the stems are cooked through. This should only take about 6 minutes or so. Turn up heat and cook away any liquid in the pan until the greens are dry. Turn off heat.
- Toast your bread: use the little grill if you have it, or else the broiler in your oven or over embers if you are lucky to have a fire going.
- Cut each slice in half once toasted. Spread each with a schmear of ‘nduja, then top with greens and serve.
Always enjoy your recipes but after two nduja recipes in succession, can you say if there is any place in US where you can obtain nduja? Or is there any substitute?
Boccalone has it: http://www.boccalone.com/products/Nduja.html and a quick search on Amazon showed a few sources too.
Two nduja recipes in a row — both look good, but do you know of any place in US where you can get nduja? Is there any substitute?
Just answered below! 🙂
Elizabeth please help me, in UK English ‘beet’ is not used as a description. What is the Italian name for the greens you recommend here? Many thanks for an interesting column, I know the casalinga stand in Campo de’ Fiori.
These are the greens that are attached to beetroot. Does that help? Sorry for the Anglo/American confusion. In Italian they are usually called rape rosso.
Elizabeth — Can you tell me the names of some stores in your neighbourhood that carry the stove top grills? These would be excellent presents.
Best,
Kirby Chown
There is Di Tutto di Piu, on Via dei Serpenti. You can spot it since it displays stocking and barbie dolls c. 1982 in the window. And there is another on Via Madonna dei Monti at the corner of Via Garafano. But you can pick one up at the stand in Campo dei Fiori, since he almost always has them.
Now, if I can only find a bruschetta grill!
I did a quick search to see if I could find them online, but couldn’t. It looks like someone has to start importing them!
http://www.vitacasalinga.com/bruschetta-pan-25×25/
Well done!!
Luckily, according to Google translate, “schmear” in Yiddish is the same in Italian–so you won’t have to try and explain it to a roman–haha–I love that word. And now I love the word ‘nduja too, hopefully I’ll find some soon.