What ‘al fresco’ actually means in August

I. The light

The light in Puglia in August arrives at a specific angle in the late afternoon that does the work that interior design cannot replicate.

At five o’clock, the sun is low enough that it passes horizontally through the gaps between buildings and across tables set on terraces, catching the olive oil in the serving dishes and the white of the tablecloth and the salt crusted on the skin of something that came off a grill an hour ago.

The table set in this light with simple food on it looks beautiful without trying to. Nothing additional is required.

II. What works outdoors in August

Not heavy sauces. Not pasta with a cream component. Not dishes that cool to the wrong temperature between kitchen and table.

What works: raw vegetables dressed at the table; cherry tomatoes with salt and good olive oil; sliced eggplant grilled with oil, garlic, and basil; cured meats and cheeses that improve in the heat; grilled fish from the Adriatic that morning, eaten warm or at room temperature.

The food has a specific quality: it is largely assembled rather than cooked. The grilling is the maximum heat application. The rest is arrangement.

III. What does not work outdoors in August

The tomatoes that are not ripe. In August in Puglia the tomatoes should be collapsing with ripeness. A tomato that is firm and pale in August will not taste of anything regardless of what you dress it with.

The cheese that suffers: fresh mozzarella left in the heat for more than fifteen minutes loses its texture and flavour. Burrata more so. Served at room temperature, just removed from its container, before the heat has fully claimed it.

The olive oil that is not good enough. There is nowhere for it to hide outdoors at a simple table. The Coratina from Puglia — intensely peppery, high in polyphenols — is what makes the food taste like Puglia rather than like dressed vegetables.

IV. The moment

There is a specific moment I keep returning to when I think about al fresco dining in August. It is the moment when the meal and the evening become the same thing.

The food is on the table and being eaten and also the food is already somewhere in the background and what is happening is the conversation and the wine and the cooling air arriving finally after the heat of the day. The food organised the gathering. The gathering has now claimed the evening.

Recipe — Pinzimonio · raw summer vegetables

Antonella Greco · Bari · serves 4 · 5 minutes

• Serves 4
• 5 min assemble
• 0 min cook
• Serve at 5 PM

Ingredients

• Whatever vegetables are ripe: fennel in wedges, celery with its leaves, radishes
• Cherry tomatoes, cucumber, raw artichoke hearts if available
• Extra virgin Coratina olive oil (or any good Pugliese oil)
• Flaky sea salt
• Freshly ground black pepper
• Optionally: a few drops of lemon juice in the oil

The method

1. Pinzimonio is not technically a recipe. It is the practice of dipping raw vegetables into olive oil seasoned with salt and pepper at the table.
2. Arrange the vegetables on a board or a plate.
3. Pour the olive oil into a small bowl. Season with salt and pepper.
4. Eat by dipping the vegetables into the oil at the table.
5. The quality of the oil and the ripeness of the vegetables are the entire recipe. Serve before anything else, with bread, in the late afternoon light.

About the contributor

Antonella Greco

Antonella Greco writes about outdoor eating and Puglian summer food from Bari, Puglia, Italy. She believes the August terrace at five o’clock is the most beautiful room in the house.

Editor’s notes — the longer view

A note on the aesthetic. The aesthetic of al fresco dining did not come from a magazine. It came from heat. The terrace was cooler than the kitchen. The food was assembled because nobody was willing to stand at the stove.

A note on the Coratina. Pugliese olive oil from Coratina olives — intensely peppery, high in polyphenols, specific to this landscape. It is what makes the food taste like Puglia rather than like dressed vegetables.

A note on the burrata. Burrata is made for immediate consumption. Out of the cooler, at room temperature, before the heat has fully claimed it. Fifteen minutes is the window. After that you have something else.

A note on the moment. The cooling air arrives finally after the heat of the day. The primary course has been eaten. What remains is whatever is left on the table and the reason to stay at it.

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