I always liked recipes that can be prepared anywhere. Simple stuff. That kind of thing that only your father would cook while camping, or if in charge of the stove when mother is out! My babbo has always been the “fire and grill” cook in the house, always finding an excuse for lighting a fireplace, the pit, or the bread oven… Most of the things we used to cook together were improvised (that’s how it felt to me at least), he had his way, and I just wanted to play with fire!
He has always been proud of family’s corn bread, an heirloom recipe his mother had brought back to Florence from traveling to the US after WWII. So my father kept alive the tradition, and at times baked it directly on the fire or in the bread oven, never wanted to listed to my mom when she was trying to explain him that it could be done in the kitchen’s electric oven as well: “Leonardo, do you really have to light a fire in an August night?” My father would just grin, with a cigar hanging from his mouth and a glass of wine in his hand. While I was probably setting up things on fire all around.
His corn bread was fantastic, I have not had it in a while, so I decided to go down memory lane with this one.
ssshhhh, my father does not know I added pancetta to his recipe.