PanzaNicoise?

How much do I love imported, canned tuna in olive oil? I will tell you, it's a lot. No single, other food that I can think of brings a meal to glowing, bourgie status with just a can opener and a little bit of creativity. But what do you do when confronted with the aforementioned can, a basket of new spring groceries, and a baguette that has seen its better days? Make a panzanella, or a nicoise, no-- a panzanella. Well which ever it was, it was delicious.

I had gone a little ga-ga at the market. With so much beautiful produce, how could I not? Peppery, bright green baby arugula, no plucking necessary, acted as my base. Juicy, red-ripe tomatoes, no larger than a golf ball, screaming for me to cook (or not to cook, as the case may be) with them. Shavings of crisp bulbs of fennel, their anisette fragrance delicately flavoring the mix, and smooth, buttery cannelini beans adding protein and a gentle bite to the salad.

For my golden croutons, I tore chunks of slightly stale baguette, tossed lightly in olive oil, added a bit of salt and pepper, then toasted them the oven. I could hardly stop eating them before they mingled with the entirety of my salad. There was no starring role in this panza-nicoise. Each element played cohesively together with the other members of this creation. No tuna vying for space against the greens, no cannelini beans getting jealous by the presence of a voluptuous tomato.

So panzanella, or nicoise, which was it? Well, I'm not really sure, and frankly I don't really care. I just gobbled the salad up, and even had room for another helping.