Lo Sfincione di Mondello
Sitting a few kilometers from the snarls of the city’s traffic, Mondello is Palermo’s beachfront. Less chic than it is drowsy, the tiny port’s center is paved with little trattorie that offer still-writhing sea fish from which one can choose a fine lunch. And at noon, just as bathers and strollers longing for some icy little aperitivo start off for the bars and caffès, a husky, microphoned voice seeming to come from the fat, dark leaves of the old plane trees intrudes on the operetta. With the precision of a corps de ballet, the cast of characters pivots in the direction of a small white truck, chugging slowly, then edging to a stop in their midst. Lo sfincionaro has arrived. In another place, he might be called the pizza man, though his is hardly some prosaic pie. His voice invites: “Just come to see them. They are warm and fragrant. I don’t ask that you buy one. I only invite you to admire them.” We watched as there came a fast gathering of his devoted. Mothers and babies, men in rumply Palm Beach suits, Australian fishermen on holiday, an Englishwoman with a great yellow hat and a silver-headed cane. Children clutching five-lire notes collected, each of them waiting for lo sfincionaro to enfold a great, warm heft of his beautiful onion-scented bread into a sheet of soft gray paper. A traditional confection of Palermo, it is called lo sfincione. It is a crunchy, rich, bread-crusted tart—and close kin to southern France’s pissaladière—that cradles sautéed onions, dried black olives, sun-dried tomatoes, anchovies, pancetta, and pecorino. Fashioning smaller sfincioni and piling them up, newly born, in an old basket and passing them about with jugs of cold white wine can make for a lovely summer supper.
Recipe information
Yield
makes 2 medium or 12 to 15 small breads
Ingredients
The Crust
The Filling
Preparation
Step 1
In a large bowl, stir the yeast into the water, letting it soften for 10 minutes. Meanwhile, stir together the olive oil, milk, and salt. Add the flours and the liquids all at once to the yeast/water mixture, blending them well.
Step 2
Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured work space and knead it to a soft, elastic texture, a task that takes at least 8 minutes. Allow the dough to rise in a lightly oiled bowl, covered with plastic wrap, until it doubles—about 1 1/2 hours.
Step 3
Meanwhile, prepare the filling. Over a medium flame, slowly soften the onions in the olive oil without browning them. Add the white wine a tablespoon or two at a time, permitting it to evaporate before the next dose. When the onions are very soft and have released and reabsorbed their own liquids as well as the wine—about 25 minutes—remove them from the flame and stir in the tablespoon of vinegar. Set the onions aside. Finely sliver the sun-dried tomatoes. Using a vegetable peeler, shave the cheese thin. Rinse the anchovies of their salt, remove their heads and bones, and lightly dry them on absorbent paper towels before crushing them with a fork.
Step 4
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Deflate the dough, dividing it in two (or cutting it into 12 to 15 pieces for smaller tarts). Roll or pat the dough to a thickness of 1/3 inch, placing each piece on a parchment-lined sheet (or pat the smaller pieces into little rounds, still not more than 1/3 inch in thickness, and place them on parchment-lined sheets).
Step 5
Spread the cooled onions on the surface of the tarts, leaving a 1-inch border free. Strew the onions with the olives, tomatoes, anchovies, pancetta, and cheese. Allow the sfincioni to rise, covered with clean kitchen towels, for 40 minutes. Drizzle 3 tablespoons of the tomato preserving oil over the tarts and bake them—25 minutes for the medium breads and 15 to 18 minutes for the small ones, or until they are golden. Cool them on racks for a very few minutes or not, as appetites and audience dictate.
