
Supposedly a traditional Italian bread that is named after the eruptive volcano of the region, the idea is that the melted mozarella will ooze and fill in those airy gaps between to offer up mouthful after mouthful of delightful bite ... and that it did.
The perfect setting for this is a flavourful big bowl of rough-cut, stock-rich vegetable soup, matched with its savoury-rich equivalent in this bread, on a gingham-set table, eaten in approaching autumn with a blood-deep glass of robust barolo. That Tuscan dream remains with the D Goddess. For now, the tropical table will have to suffice while we bite into the stromboli and let our tastebuds stimulate the imagination of that perpetually faraway Italian sojourn...
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