When we have a friend coming for lunch, that morning Bill will sweetly inquire, “Will you be making those great sandwiches I hope?”
I will.
Make panini!
Some years ago—maybe twenty—on the radio I heard an interview with Candace Bergen…Talking about what she loved to cook, at one point she mentioned she loved her panini press, would never part with it. I was intrigued. It was in her Murphy Brown period. This is a woman of parts, thought I. Maybe I’d also like such a machine.
But what is “panini?” I’d spent time in Italy but the term didn’t ring a bell.
I was on my own living in a studio apartment (that’s an uptown way of saying one room) in Brentwood, a western enclave of Los Angeles where everything is lovely.
Across the street was a new indoor-outdoor restaurant. One night I invited my mother (who lived two blocks away) to join me there for supper. “Let’s try it out.” “Great,” said Ma. It was the sort of casual place where you stood in line to order, then went to your table and they brought you the food. Ma and I saw there was panini on the menu, I mentioned the Candace Bergen bit and we each ordered one.
One of those gustatory moments in a lifetime you never forget.
Panini is Italian for small bread / bread roll. The composed Panini—you probably know—is an Italian grilled sandwich. The idea is to fill a thick roll with flavorful meltable complementary ingredients, then set it in a machine with heated steel plates and press down so the stuffed roll toasts on the outside, heats/melts on the inside…after a few minutes, eccolo!—a sublimely delicious hot compact sandwich. Complete meal in the hand.
So the next morning I did a little research and bought a Cuisinart Griddler. They’re still available (as are now more complicated models). The heavy corrugated stainless steel plates can be reversed to be flat—toast a smooth surface. I’ve never done that—I like the toasted uppy-downy effect you see of my half-eaten panini in the photograph. Intriguing.
Something besides memorable eating I like about making panini for guests…there’s zero prep time. Since no ingredient needs fussing with, all I have to do before guests come is set the table. Then just after they arrive, I can breeze into the kitchen, pull ingredients from the fridge, pull out the machine from the cupboard. And while the sandwiches are toasting, I can fill bowls with olives, pickles, maybe slice a few tomatoes, wash the fruit for dessert, bring out the cold drinks…you get the picture.
Now what will fill your handsome corrugated toasted roll? The restaurant across the street made a classic panini with pesto, ham, mozzarella, and arugula. The idea of arugula leaves in a roasted sandwich blew me away. The pesto and arugula were the touches that made their sandwich memorable. I’ve since learned that these two elements are classic, essential.
Your panini can be sublime with little effort.
First, procure a machine.
Then the ingredients, beginning with the rolls. If you can, buy ciabatta (our Safeway bakery makes marvelous ones). Any large rolls with chewy, soft but sturdy interior and crisp/crunchy crust.
Procure a good pesto…ours is usally from Costco, bless them.
Filling ingredients I’ve come to rely on are thin deli slices of uncured ham, turkey, and/or chicken…then slices of a melting cheese–mozzarella for preference, but a good jack (pepper jack!), provolone, asiago, Swiss or even cheddar…whichever you love.
Next, tomato slices are an option as are slices of roasted sweet red peppers. I lay on one or the other for a big eater.
Finally top with a vibrant layer of raw bitterish greens such as arugula or stemless fresh young spinach leaves…
By the way, the “Caprese” panini (native to the island of Capri) filling is mozzarella, tomatoes, and pesto and/or arugula—perhaps with drops of balsamic vinegar. Perfect for vegetarian friends.
Son of By the way: classic panini recipes call for Italian-style processed meats such as prosciutto, salami, mortadella. Delectable but I choose not to use them. Not that my deli- meats haven’t been processed. Just the less processing we ingest these days the better. Thus I pick meats from—the label says so–minimally processed meats from humanely-raised animals. (Of course an occasional sandwich with heavenly salami is such a treat…)
Easy Panini for Friends
For each sandwich, buy a nice-size (about 4 ounces) ciabatta roll. A large thick (two inches) French roll will work.
Start the press heating according to manufacturer’s direction.
Slice each roll lengthwise in half.
Generously spread both surfaces edge to edge with pesto. Cover the bottom slice with two thin layers of meat (I do turkey then ham). Cover completely with thin slices of a melting cheese. Perhaps add thin slices of tomato or preserved sweet pepper over that. Cover completely with a layer of raw crisp peppery greens.
Place the sandwich lid on and press firmly to connect everything.
Now brush or spray both top and bottom outside completely with olive or avocado oil—a light veil. This ensures the sandwich will be crispy.
Place in the hot press—it needn’t be greased unless the manufacturer says so. You can fit three at a time in the Cuisinart. Gently pull the lid forward to even out lid and bottom, then press down firmly to meld everything together. Hold down the top for a long minute, or until it doesn’t immediately try to rise back up…
Check after about 5 minutes…toast until the top is the depth of color you like.
I garnish the plate with a sliced tomato (if there’s none in the sandwich) and offer bowls of kalamata olives and bread-and-butter pickles (these latter are hardly Italian but their crispness and sweet-sourness are so good with a sandwich I think). Fresh fruit for dessert, maybe some good cookies…sparkling water…
Memorable! easy—and modestly expensive–and fun.
Ciao! e grazie!
