One of my favorite Italy memories is of focaccia from a bakery at the far end of the beach in Monterosso, in the Cinque Terre. I've eaten their delicious olive oily breads with my friends, my mum and C. See, the thing to do is to get your bread (various toppings, sold by weight), a cold drink (limonata, perhaps?) and wander over to the beach or start the hike through the vineyards and olive groves by way of an old goat trail until you find a suitable spot to sit and eat your lunch. C.and I chose to eat here:
There is nothing quite like the focaccia from Monterosso. Drenched in olive oil and light and chewy at the same time, it's one of those things that you have to eat on location to fully understand it's perfection.
That being said, I've been trying to bake it myself. I think I've found my favorite recipe and am getting quite good at it. Last night I made olive and rosemary focaccia to go with the mackerel. It was pretty damn good. I do think that the secret is the excessive amount of olive oil. More! More than that! More than you think possible because it's never quite enough.
Perhaps I'll have to go back to try it again before I get it completely perfect.