Salami Sandwich with Frico and Mostarda

The summer that I was fourteen, I babysat for two girls that lived down the street. I mean I watched them all day, every day. They were 7 and 4. Yes, a fourteen year-old was taking care of two small children for eight hours a day. That sounds crazy, right? I mean, maaaybe I was fifteen? But I don’t think so. I know I could not drive. I remember my friend Kim’s grandma coming to pick us up to take us to the pool, and I don’t think I was hanging out with her anymore by the time I was fifteen. Wait, I took them to the pool? A four-year old and a seven year-old? Why was that allowed? Maybe Kim’s grandma stayed there with us.

Anyway, it was great money for a teenager, and I’m sure unbelievably cheap for their parents. And they were the cool house on the block. Attractive couple, nice cars, cool stereo, etc. I remember getting there very early in the morning. So early that the kids were still asleep. So I would go back to sleep, too, and wait for them to wake me up. What on earth did I do with them all day? I can’t remember much except calling in to request songs on the radio – and maybe that trip to the pool.

But what I do remember is making them lunch. The cool couple also had the cool food. We had mac ‘n’ cheese, Pringles, and my favorite summer sandwich: hard salami on white bread with Fritos and yellow mustard. Yup, that packaged, sliced salami with the peppercorns in it. I’d smear the bread with mustard, put the Fritos on top of the salami, and then smush it all down into the soft white bread, like Ally Sheedy with her Cap’n Crunch sandwich in The Breakfast Club.

Something about the flattened bread, the crunch of the chips, the chew of the salami and the bite of the mustard. It was magic and got me through many a summer day filled with screaming, fighting sisters.

During the dog days of summer, I get the same craving, but I’m too grown up to make that sandwich now. So I thought I would elevate it. Substitute the supermarket bread and salami with artisan ingredients from local producers. Mimic the crunch of a Frito with the crisp of a frico. And get the mustardy zip along with some sweetness with homemade mostarda.

Yes, it takes four days to make mostarda, but the active time is really only about an hour, so you truly can do it. You’ll feel such a sense of accomplishment when you’re done. You can also use just about any combination of fresh and dried fruit that you like, so you can feel good about cleaning out the fridge and cabinets. Or, if you’re like my friend Lauren, you can just go to the store and buy it. I’ll bet the store with the really good salami has some…

Craving more ideas for sandwiches? Try this Italian Steak Sandwich with Grilled Radicchio.

Salami Sandwich with Frico and Mostarda

Good Italian bread

Artisanal salami such as finocchiona or genoa – about 8 slices per sandwich

 

For the frico:

2 tbsp grated parmigiano reggiano per frico chip

You really have to use the good Parmigiano Reggiano for this. The stuff in the round container in the grocery aisle will not do. It just won’t melt down into these lacy wafers. Maybe because there might actually be sawdust in it. Not good. And even the better, pre-grated stuff doesn’t work because anti-caking agents have been added that keep it from melting together properly. It’s worth the investment for the flavor, and you can save the rinds to use in soups and sauces later.

 

For the mostarda:

two nectarines, peeled, and chopped into 1/4 inch pieces

two plums, peeled, and chopped into 1/4 inch pieces

2 cups dried apricots, quartered

1/3 cup sugar

2 tbsp dried mustard (plus more if desired)

4 tbsp cider vinegar (plus more if desired)

Make the frico:

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

Grate parmigiano reggiano on the small side of a box grater. I found that it worked better if the cheese was perpendicular to the counter, giving you longer shreds. This gave the frico a lacier texture.

Heap two tablespoons of grated cheese for each crisp into well-spaced piles on the parchment. You can gently tap it down on top if you want.

Bake for 3-5 minutes until cheese is bubbling and beginning to crisp.

Remove from oven and allow to cool completely.

Make the mostarda:

Adapted from Food 52

Peel and chop the fresh fruit and place in a large bowl.

Top the fruit with the sugar and stir. Allow to macerate at room temperature.

Cut the apricots into quarters. Place in a small sauce pan and just barely cover with water. Simmer for about 10-15 minutes, set aside to cool.

Pour the dried fruit and liquid over the fresh fruit and stir to combine. Allow to sit for a couple of hours. Cover tightly and refrigerate for 24 hours.

The next day, pour syrup off into a small saucepan. Over low heat, reduce to a thick syrup. Allow to cool, then pour back into the fruit mixture and stir, let sit for a couple of hours. Cover and refrigerate for 24 hours. Repeat this same process, pouring the syrup, reducing it, back in the fridge, etc. on the third day.

On the fourth day in a larger sauce pan, reduce the syrup down again, then add all fruit and bring to a simmer. For each four cups of fruit, mix two tablespoons of dry mustard with 4 tablespoons of cider vinegar.

Whisk together and incorporate into the fruit mixture. Simmer for about 10 minutes, then taste to see if it is to your liking. If you want more zip, add more dry mustard and vinegar. Just use the ration of twice as much vinegar to mustard. So you could start slowly with one teaspoon dry mustard and two teaspoons vinegar, etc., then simmer for a bit and taste again.

Let the mostarda cool and keep it in a tightly sealed container in the fridge. It should keep for about a month, and you’ll have a great condiment for roasted meats, sandwiches, cheese plates and more.