I'm thinking about printing up T-shirts for you guys.
"I went over to the Meatball's for dinner," they might say, "and all I got was this lump of stale bread."
What happened is that an all-wood-fired dinner party commenced the other evening — we're talking roasted mussels with garlic and butter, and slow-cooked bone-in pork roast, and Jerusalem artichokes with brussels sprouts leaves, and other good stuff I won't torture you with.
And did I take one lousy picture the entire night? Or, worse, jot down a single improvised recipe?
You have every right to be pissed off. Wouldn't blame you a bit.
Which brings us to the subject of your (possible) new T-shirt. See, I like to have a couple different loaves on hand for a dinner, and that night there were four: a baguette and a sourdough loaf from Scratch, plus two loaves I baked fresh in the wood oven. As you might imagine, that was more pane than four people could comfortably consume, but as bread and I enjoy an especially intimate relationship (we do, you know), I am never at a loss for ways to bond with it.
And these bread gnocchi (gnocchi di pane if you are keeping score in a Romance language) were a fine way to bond indeed. (Speaking of the mother tongue, gnocchi is Italian for, well, "lump." And so I am literally offering lumps of bread here.)
The leftovers after a couple days, minus the sourdough. (Most any recipe for gnocchi di pane will tell you to cut off the crust. I'd sooner cut off a finger. Not one of my own, necessarily, but still.)
Soaked in hot milk, lovely crust and all, and left in the fridge overnight.
Drained (two cups' worth of the wet bread, give or take) and run through the Cuisinart with two eggs, some nutmeg and Romano cheese, then onto a work surface where it gets mixed with about a cup of flour.
Molded and placed into a well-buttered baking dish.
After about 15-20 minutes at 375 F, thrown under the broiler to brown.
Pour on some melted butter and more of the grated Romano.
If you're still not happy I'll get right on those T-shirts. But you're making a big mistake. These lumps of stale bread were top drawer.