There's something deeply satisfying about a dish that's been feeding people for over two thousand years.
Bruschetta — properly pronounced bru-SKET-ta, not bru-SHET-ta — traces its roots back to ancient Rome, where olive farmers would toast bread over a fire and drizzle it with freshly pressed oil to test the new season's harvest. It wasn't a recipe. It was a ritual. A way of tasting the land.
Fast forward a few centuries and the modern day Italians turned it into something magnificent — and then promptly started arguing about who did it best. Lazio claims it. Tuscany claims it. Campania claims it. The truth is, every region has its version, and every nonna has the real one. What they all agree on: it starts with great bread, great olive oil, and nothing pretending to be something it isn't.
My version this Sunday was about as simple and delicious as it gets.
Fresh sourdough from the legends at @floured_baking in Goodwood, toasted until golden and still warm. A fat clove of garlic rubbed straight onto the crust — just enough to perfume every bite. Ripe cherry tomatoes, a mix of red and yellow, roughly chopped and left to sit for a few minutes with a pinch of salt. Fresh burrata, torn and draped over the top. A generous handful of basil. Cracked black pepper. A few drops of red wine vinegar.
And then — and this is the part I've been waiting to talk about — lashings of Nimble Extra Virgin Olive Oil.
I'm getting genuinely excited about this one. Our Nimble EVOO is edging closer and I've been testing it at every opportunity. The flavour is stunning — grassy, peppery, with that gorgeous fresh bitterness that tells you the olives were harvested at exactly the right moment. On bruschetta? It's not a condiment. It's the whole point.
That's the thing about bruschetta. It doesn't hide anything. Bad olive oil on bruschetta is immediately, painfully obvious. Great olive oil? It absolutely sings.
This is a dish that rewards quality over complexity, every single time.
Now. What to drink with it.
A Sunday brunch bruschetta deserves something a little playful. My pick? A Tancello Spritz.
Pour Tancello over ice, top with Nimble Prosecco, add a slice of orange, a dash of soda. It's bright, it's citrusy, it's got just enough interest to make you feel like you're doing something special with your morning. And it pairs beautifully with the acidity of the tomatoes and the richness of the burrata.
If you're a Pineapple Club member, this is exactly the kind of Sunday we had in mind when we put Prosecco in your box. $50 a month, three bottles delivered, and moments like this one.
Not a member yet? Head to nimble.wine — no lock-in, cancel anytime, guaranteed delicious.
Now go make the bruschetta. You won't regret it.
Cheers, Richard The Nimble Vintner
