As you can probably imagine, we’ve been swimming in bread for a month or so now. For the first few days we embraced the romance and luxury of having freshly baked baguettes in the house with crust that is only rivaled by the product of Parisian corner bakeries. We made more than a few dinners of nothing but cheese, red wine, and this bread. We ate these dinners on our porch, as if we were on vacation.






Alas, this is not a sustainable diet for high-functioning adults, and I’m still coming to terms with something that I imagine lots of folks go through when they cross over from being an enthusiastic home baker to becoming a pro: the inevitable struggle of producing mass quantities of gorgeous baked goods without getting too attached to them at the end.

Here’s what I’m up against. Each morning, I roll into class in my clean, pressed cooking uniform. I put down my knife roll, open up my binder of baker’s formulas, and I look over at a massive stainless steel shelving unit along one end of the wall. It’s got rows and rows of shelves spanning from floor to ceiling, and in the morning, it is completely empty.





It is the job of the twelve people in my class to get down to the business of filling those shelves until they overflow, by no later than 3 PM, and that is what we do. We work in teams, doing our part to scale and mix, to fold and monitor, shape, score and bake. Although the formulas are scaled up from the proportions we were making as home bakers before we got ourselves into this venture, we still care every bit as much about each and every loaf, the very same way that home bakers care for a loaf that they are baking. Our goal, making the end result as delicious and as beautiful as we possibly can, is not diminished as we scale up to professional quantities.





That is why I am in this predicament. When I get to class, I tell myself that I will not take bread home at the end. Then, three o’clock rolls around, and I look over at the shelving unit, overflowing with the beautiful bread that we’ve worked so hard to make. It’s beautiful. It looks out at us as we wipe sweat and flour from our brows, with sad little bread faces. It feels wrong not to take it, and so I fill my flour sack and go on my way.





It used to be that my freezer had balance; some veggies, some meats, a pie crust or two. Today, open my freezer and out falls the semolina bread from week three, with the olive bread in tow. Try to store anything else, I dare you, without removing the massive loaf of pain de mie from week 1, just waiting for the day when I host a massive brunch, at which point it will become French toast. Houston, I’ve become the “bread lady”. It’s time for us to dig out and use up what’s been stored. This ciabatta came first.





Consider this less a recipe and more of a jumping off point for your own experimentation. Bruschetta starts with bread that you love, grilled. If you pair it with flavors that you enjoy together, you simply can’t go wrong. Peaches are in season, but I was disappointed by how these performed. They were a little too hard, but I expected the grill to magically soften them into drippy, peachy mush, which I had envisioned draping over the toasted bread slathered with goat cheese. They stayed firmer than I imagined they would, but were still lovely. With the sweet, smoky, and savory all going on, these can star on either the dinner or the dessert menu. Or, if you’re looking to go the more traditional route with tomato season just around the corner, click here.

Grilled Peach Bruschetta

serves 4 as appetizer or dessert

When I made this, I used ciabatta from class, but you can find ciabatta in most bakeries and markets. French bread or another crusty bread would also work fine. I made a balsamic vinegar reduction for drizzling (which just means I simmered it in a small pan to get rid of some of the excess water to make the vinegar thicker), but it is not necessary to do so – totally your call. Try to pick peaches that are ripe enough so that if you were to bite into one, juice would run down your chin. Ideally, yours will be slightly more orange inside than mine are here. No grill? No problem. Toast the bread, roast the fruit in the oven, and you are in business.

two peaches, cut into wedges

1 loaf of ciabatta (or more if the loaf is small), cut in half and then into pieces

4 oz. fresh goat cheese

drizzle of olive oil

drizzle of honey

drizzle of balsamic vinegar

Place the peach wedges on skewers, brush with olive oil, and cook on the grill as slowly as possible, avoiding direct contact with the flames (you may notice that I was not entirely successful at that part from the photos). Brush the ciabatta with olive oil and place the oiled sides down on the grill, also away from direct flames. Toast to desired darkness, then remove.

Spread goat cheese on the toasted ciabatta. When the peaches are soft and dripping juices with the skins lightly charred on the edges, place the peaches on the bread with goat cheese. Drizzle balsamic vinegar and honey over the tops and serve immediately.