How to Make the Perfect Panzanella

Panzanella, the Italian bread and tomato salad, is a great way to use up a stale loaf. How do you stop it being bland or soggy - or do you have a better recipe for bread past its best?Before the advent of the modern wonder-loaf - which could probably outlive your kids - almost everyone had a cunning use for stale bread. Bread pakoras, pain perdu, bread and butter and summer puddings, bread soup - all dishes well worth passing up the odd piece of toast for.According to Marcella Hazan, "from Florence down to Rome" panzanella salad is the favourite choice; Anna del Conte writes evocatively of setting an earthenware pot of panzanella on a scrubbed table in the shade of a fig tree at her farmhouse in Chianti, and pulling up a flask of cool local wine from the well to wash it down. But, if you have neither farmhouse nor well, it is still a nice way to make a silky summery purse from a stale old sow's ear.

Bread

As with many peasant dishes born of necessity, there seems to be endless variations on panzanella, but what isn't up for debate is the kind of bread: "gutsy, country bread such as that of Tuscany or Abruzzi" is what's required, according to Hazan, and Del Conte is even more specific: pan sciocco, or unsalted Tuscan bread, is what makes a good panzanella. As you're adding salt to the salad anyway, I'm not convinced you need to hunt out pan sciocco, but a firm, rustic loaf certainly holds its shape better than the average fluffy white bloomer.Ciabatta will do at a pinch, according to Giorgio Locatelli and Alvaro Maccioni, author of Mamma Toscana - but the drier, looser structure prevents it from melting into the salad in quite the same way: it's certainly better than soft bread, but definitely the inferior option here. (Don't waste your time trying to make it with any sort of fresh bread: it will just disintegrate.) Locatelli cuts the crusts off, which seems a waste: it makes the texture more uniform but also less interesting.Del Conte, despairing of finding the correct Tuscan loaf in this country, has developed her own variation - la panzanella a modo mio - in which she toasts slices of "best country bread", moistened with olive oil, serving the salad on top. It's very nice, but I'm not sure it qualifies - there's no chance for the salad and bread to blend, which seems the point of a panzanella.

Liquid

The challenge with stale bread is how to stop it tasting, well, stale - for which you require moisture. Hazan keeps it simple by wetting, but not drenching, the pieces in cold water, while a recipe from the organic farming co-operative of Paterna, collected in Lori De Mori and Jason Lowe's Beaneaters & Bread Soup, leaves it soaking for 10-15 minutes, by which time it needs wringing out. I'm not keen on the latter's stodgy, squidgy texture - and, though Hazan's is springier, it seems a shame to use plain water when there are so many more interesting options. Tuscan peasants of yore may not have had the choice, but we do, and we should be thankful for it.Locatelli moistens the bread with vinegar while making the rest of the salad, Maccioni leaves it soaking in the tomato juices, and everyone else simply adds it dry and lets the dressing and the juices do their work. I think this is a mistake - although it should retain some texture, you don't want the bread to remain dry and chewy - yet Maccioni's is a little too soggy. Locatelli's bread has an invigorating zip of vinegar, which makes all the others seem bland. There's no competition here: vinegar it is.

Tomatoes

The major part of the salad is, usually, tomatoes - the super-simple Paterna recipe leaves them out, and I miss them. Del Conte seeds them, which is a shame: the accompanying juices are lovely in the salad dressing. In fact, I'm going to salt them, as Jamie Oliver suggests in Jamie's Italy, and allow the juices to drain into a bowl so I can whisk them into the dressing directly.

Other vegetables

Onions are very popular - almost always red, though Maccioni uses spring onion, which tastes too harsh and green. Locatelli uses great big raw chunks, but I find the flavour far too aggressive: much better to slice them thinly and soak before use, as Del Conte suggests, so you get the sweetness without the bite.Cucumber is surprisingly common, but, like Oliver's celery heart, I don't think it goes particularly well - by all means stick it in if, like the bread, you have some to use up, but I wouldn't make a special purchase.Peppers, yellow and red, work better; they're usually used raw, but, inauthentic though it may be, once I've tried Oliver's charred versions, I can't go back. Blackened over a fire until the skins rub off, they retain the crunch of the uncooked fruit, but take on a little of the sweetness of roasted peppers. Possibly, in Italy, peppers come so ripe that there's no need to bother, but in Britain I think it's well worth the effort.

Herbs and extras

Basil, used in almost all the recipes, is, as ever, a perfect match with ripe tomatoes and olive oil. Del Conte, Hazan and Oliver all use capers, anchovies and garlic too: big flavours indeed, but this salad, with its bland bread and sweet, fruity tomatoes, can take them. Better to mash the anchovies into the sauce, as Hazan and Del Conte suggest, rather than using them whole like Oliver - they can be a little overpowering.Del Conte infuses her oil with garlic and chilli before use: I don't think it needs the heat of the chilli, and I can't detect the garlic, so, instead, I'm going to mash a clove into the dressing, as Oliver and Hazan do. Just a small one, though: like the anchovies, it should only be a hint.

Timing

Locatelli reckons the salad is better made the day before, but I find it tends towards mushy after a few hours. I think Oliver has the right idea in letting it stand for 15 minutes or so before serving: it gives the flavours more of a chance to mingle. This is, of course, best done on a scrubbed Tuscan tabletop, but fairly decent results can be achieved on a British worksurface too.

How to make the perfect panzanella

Serves 2-4
1/2 red onion, thinly sliced
1 red pepper
1 yellow pepper
8 ripe tomatoes
200g stale country bread
4tbsp white wine vinegar
1tbsp capers
2 anchovies, finely chopped
1 small clove of garlic, crushed
6tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Small bunch of fresh basilPut the onion slices in a bowl of cold water with a pinch of salt, and leave to soak for an hour.Blacken the peppers on a gas hob, or using a kitchen blowtorch, then put in a plastic bag or a bowl covered in clingfilm and leave for 20 minutes.Cut the tomatoes into large dice and place in a colander set over a bowl. Salt and leave to drain while you prepare the other ingredients.Tear the bread into chunks about the same size as the tomatoes, put into a salad bowl and moisten with vinegar. Drain the onion and add to the bowl, along with the capers. Scrape as much black skin off the peppers as you can, and cut them into long strips. Gently press the tomatoes to squeeze out the last juice, then put the flesh in the bowl.Stir the chopped anchovies and crushed garlic into the tomato juice and then whisk in the olive oil. Season to taste.Pour on to the salad and toss thoroughly. Roughly tear the basil leaves and sprinkle on top. Allow to sit for between 15 minutes and an hour, then serve.Panzanella: a work of thrifty genius, or a culinary abomination of soggy bread and vinegar? And if you don't fancy it, what do you like to do with your old bread?
Perfect panzanella. All photographs: Felicity Cloake for the Guardian