I can't believe I didn't have this idea an hour ago. A few weeks ago, I mentioned that I had made a focaccia for dinner. This focaccia comes from a book by Carole Field called, uh, Focaccia, which contains dozens of beautiful and imaginative focaccia recipes, including a sweet focaccia for breaking the Lenten fast that contains orange flower water and three sticks of butter. But the prizewinner among them is a focaccia from Genoa, where grapes are plentiful, as is wine, and the Genoese turn their wine into this amazing focaccia. I've been making it for ten years, ever since one of my culinary school teachers shared it with me. I could make it while in a coma.
"Will you give me the recipe?" says the brilliant and beautiful Philadelphia (never Philly, not ever!) resident HG. Sure, baby!, sez I, and then I promptly forget it. HG, we're having focaccia today, and not only are you getting the recipe, you're getting pictures, too (which will follow as soon as I download them from the camera).
First, though, a warning: I bake bread by weight, not by volume (although I do use a measuring cup for liquids sometimes), and on this recipe I bake by metric weight, as it's just easier to remember the numbers. Because conversions are a little time-consuming, and I'm on speedarrific post speeds today, I promise to convert to volume and imperial weights for anyone who wants them. Drop me an e, and we'll chat.