I lived three blocks away from the bakery for at least six months before stopping in to investigate. There’s no shortage of little Italian bakeries in North Beach, and this one looked decidedly less inviting than the majority of them. In fact, most of the time you can’t even be sure they’re in business. They hold true bakery hours and are only open until 1:00 (or more often until they sell out of their tasty product). The only thing identifying it as a bakery at all is a sign made of a few lines of worn gold script painted onto one of the windows, barely visible from the road. These windows are usually barren - with the exception of certain holidays, when overnight there is an explosion of festive spirit. Near human-scale mannequins have startled yours truly more than once when my walk home activated a motion sensor to send a crooked-nosed witch into a fit of cackling or induce a unexpected “ho, ho, ho” from a robust Santa Clause.
I was waiting for a ride to work one morning from my Beau, who was running quite behind. In order to kill some time I decided to run down to Liguria Bakery. Looking at the menu, it quickly became clear that this was not your ordinary bakery. There were no glass display cases with flaky pastries, and no shiny espresso machines. No tables to sit down and read the morning paper or check your email on free Wi-Fi. As my eyes searched the small shop for the menu, it became clear that this was not the place to pick up a morning latte and some biscotti. The “menu” consisted of a list of ingredients: rosemary, garlic, mushroom, raisin, etc. Although the staff was quite curt and definitely not in the mood for a chat, I was able to ascertain that this was a very specific bakery, specializing in focaccia bread. The list of ingredients was a list of the different toppings on their bread. And that is all they serve. Focaccia. Just focaccia.
They serve around ten different types, but my personal favorite is rosemary. And apparently I’m not the only one who dreams about this bread! If you can’t make it into the shop early enough it’s sold out; then you have to settle for one of the other delicious toppings, like garlic, mushroom or green onion. I know, life’s rough.
I bought a slab of rosemary focaccia last week and wasn’t able to finish it because some last minute dinner plans popped up. A few days later, I noticed the pretty package wrapped in white butcher’s paper and tied with twine sitting in my bread basket. I just couldn’t bear to throw it away, even though it was as hard as a rock. What’s the best use for bread that’s a few days old? Bread crumbs, of course! One of my favorite America’s Test Kitchen recipes is spaghetti with garlic, breadcrumbs and a fried egg. I modified it a little bit to make bacon and rosemary bread crumbs with my beloved focaccia (yes, I’m always trying to make recipes healthier…).
Pasta and over-easy eggs are an amazing combination. The yolks break to coat the noodles in a thick sauce. In this dish, the toasty breadcrumbs add a bit of crunch to contrast with the creamy sauce and toothy pasta. Parmesan contributes its characteristically nutty flavor; the garlic adds an earthy, mellow layer; the red pepper flakes give a tiny kick. Top it off with a hint of salty, meaty bacon and you have a satisfying dinner using the components of a traditional breakfast – bacon, eggs and toast.
Spaghetti with Rosemary-Bacon Breadcrumbs and Egg
Serves 4
Adapted from America’s Test Kitchen (The Best of America’s Test Kitchen 2008)
You can use any kind of bread for bread crumbs, or if you’re feeling a little lazy then use panko. And you can always drop the bacon and use olive oil (that's what the original recipe calls for).
1 lb spaghetti (use dried, fresh doesn't have the right texture for this recipe)
4 eggs
4 cloves garlic, minced
½ sheet pan of day-old rosemary focaccia (can substitute day old bread or panko crumbs), torn into 1 inch pieces
4 slices bacon, cut into matchsticks
Pinch of red pepper flakes
½ c grated Parmesan cheese
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
Optional: Chopped Italian parsley
1. Cook the bacon until crisp in a medium non-stick skillet, about 5-10 minutes. Keep the oil in the pan but drain the bacon onto a paper towel.
2. Pulse the bread in a food processor into fine crumbs. Add the crumbs to the bacon fat and toast over medium-low heat on the stovetop until golden brown. Set breadcrumbs aside to cool.
3. Cook the pasta according to instructions on the box. While the water coming to a boil and the pasta cooks, prepare the rest of the ingredients. Reserve 1 c of cooking water when draining.
4. Heat 3 T olive oil in the skillet over low heat. Add garlic, pepper flakes, and a pinch of salt. Cook slowly to mellow the garlic. This will take around 10 minutes, but be careful not to burn the garlic or you’ll have to start all over! Set this mixture aside and return the pan to low heat with 2 T oil.
5. 1 minute before the pasta is done cooking, add the eggs to the skillet. Season with salt and pepper and cover. Cook until the whites are just cooked but the yolks are runny (2-3 minutes).
6. While the eggs are cooking, mix the pasta, the garlic/oil mixture, 3 T olive oil, and Parmesan in the cooking pot. Add ½ c of the reserved cooking water, adding more if the pasta is too dry. You can add chopped Italian parsley in this step if you want.
7. Plate the pasta, top with a cooked egg, and sprinkle the dish with the breadcrumbs, bacon and additional grated cheese.
Boysenberries look like exactly what they are: a cross between a raspberry and a blackberry. They are large and plump like blackberries but have a deep red base that betrays their crossbreeding. Biting into one sets off a juicy explosion in your mouth. Boysenberries are a grown-up berry. They don’t overwhelm you with tartness, there are very few seeds, and they are more complex than any berry I’ve ever tried before. 
The aforementioned friend was lucky enough to score some boysenberry-cognac sauce from her neighbors. She was also nice enough to share some with me, but don’t worry, I gave her a gorgeous clamshell of fresh berries in the same transaction. It’s nice to have friends who are willing to barter for berries. The sauce was thick, and the deep purple color created a stark contrast against the creamy white yogurt I ate with it. I would love to have the self-control (and budget, at $4/clamshell at the Farmer’s Market) to make this sauce some day, but the berries don’t last long enough in my apartment.
