An almost ratatouille sandwich

I bought a whole bunch of summer vegetables a few days ago to make ratatouille – and never quite got around to it. So before the tomatoes go off and the eggplant gets mushy, I’ve decided to roast the whole lot.



I’m thinking roasted vegetable sandwiches for dinner. Why? Because I met a friend for coffee this morning not far from Du Pain et Des Idées, a wonderful (if pretentiously named) boulangerie on rue de Marseille, just off the Canal St Martin. It is run by former sales exec turned ardent baker, Christophe Vasseur. He gave up his blue suit and shiny shoes for an apron and an apprenticeship in 1999; in 2008 he received the prestigious Gault & Millau award for best boulanger in Paris. He makes a truly sublime, flatish, almost foccacia-like bread called Pain des Amis, which you can buy by in hunks or take home a whole gargantuan loaf. It has a tough medieval looking crust – like you could eat a pheasant off it – and the most perfect air pockets, not too large, not to small.




All I needed was a ball of buffalo mozzarella, easily acquired at the local Franprix supermarket. The line at the authentic Italian co-operative was just too long, even for the patient Parisienne I’ve become. I’ll take you there another day.

I have a good bottle of olive oil lying around – from February’s outing to the Salon d’Agriculture. (You can read about my first time with the cows on The Huffington Post). I like to toss my veggies with the oil by hand. I used to wash it off, but now I am conscious that all the expensive bath products I use contain the very same olive or almond oil I’m using in my kitchen – so I just rub it in. More effective than a bottle of moisturizer by the sink…

I’m fond of food that resembles an arts-and-crafts project – where you get points for prettiness as well as for taste.

It’s not hard to be painterly with layers of summer vegetables; the vivid green, flaming reds and oranges and deep royal purple are exactly the colors I would have chosen in finger-painting.



One question remains: will we eat our open-face sandwiches with our hands, à l’americaine, or with a knife and fork, like civilized French people?
G., gentleman that he is, immediately went for the knife and fork. I started out that way, but my roots soon got the better of me. About halfway through, I picked up the sandwich and took a big colorful bite, the garlicky tomato juice dripping down my fingers like a rare burger from a Jersey diner.

Almost ratatouille sandwiches for 2:

2 slices of focaccia (mine were about 6 inches square)
3 ripe tomatoes, cut into thirds
3 cloves of garlic, sliced
1 zucchini, thickly sliced
1 red pepper, sliced
1 orange or yellow pepper, sliced
1 small eggplant, whole
1 red onion, sliced
Extra virgin olive oil
Coarse sea salt
1 buffalo mozzarella, sliced

Preheat the oven to 450°F. Arrange the veggies on a large baking sheet lined with foil. Sprinkle the garlic on top of the tomatoes. Drizzle generously with olive, toss to coat. Bake for 45 minutes, until veggies are tender and beginning to caramelize. Remove from the oven and sprinkle with coarse sea salt. Slice the eggplant and drain slightly.

Layer the warm vegetables onto your bread: tomatoes and garlic on the bottom, then eggplant, zucchini, peppers, and finally red onion. Top with sliced mozzarella and a spoonful of olive oil from the pan.

Return to the oven for 10 minutes, plus a minute under the broiler (not too close to the heat) for a nice bubbly finish.