Tomato bruschetta teaches us the glorious clarity of Italian cooking

Roberta Dowling taught me about seasoning.

At the Cambridge School of Culinary Arts outside Boston in the late 1990s, nothing was as important to Roberta, the school’s gregarious, tough, inspirational founder. She taught us to taste and season as we went, adding salt gradually until we could sense the flavors awakening. I remember her furrowed brow when she tasted something under-seasoned and her infectious grin when she took a bite of something that lived up to her ideal: a “symphony” that would come together when all the contributing ingredients were in sync.

I lived for that smile. We all did.

Roberta, an Italian American who had taught Italian cooking at Madeleine Kamman’s school before founding her own, died in 2015 at age 75, a decade-and-a-half after I became enraptured by her in the classroom kitchen. And like so many of the school’s alumni, I think of her practically every time I cook.

Italian cooking, as she demonstrated week in and week out, might seem simple, but it requires just as much attention to technique as any other cuisine. She taught us to honor ingredients and combine them in ways that let them shine, rather than hiding them in complicated constructions. It’s not simplicity as much as it is clarity.

So when I had a hankering to make a classic tomato bruschetta recently, I again thought of Roberta. I’ve made the dish countless times since I went to culinary school, and I remembered learning from her that even though the ingredient list is short, with a little bit of attention you can create something sublime. She also frequently corrected her students’ pronunciation: In case you’re not sure, it’s “broo-skett-ah.”

The keys are to make sure to grill the bread until it chars in spots – the name of the dish is related to the Italian word for “burn,” after all – and, not surprisingly, to season those tomatoes well. By starting with flavorful tomatoes, bathing them in olive oil, garlic, basil and the all-important salt, and giving them a little time to marinate, you create that symphony of flavors Roberta was always after.

Tomato Bruschetta

This is particularly good with a flavorful, grassy, fresh olive oil; don’t skimp on it. Serve immediately after topping the bread, as it can start to get soggy if it sits for more than a few minutes.

Note: The tomato seeds and extra liquid from the marinated tomatoes can be pureed for a refreshing drink, added to soups and stews, or frozen in ice cube trays and added to bloody marys or other drinks.

4 large cloves garlic, divided

¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling

2 pounds small ripe but firm tomatoes (preferably Roma), halved, cored, seeded and cut into ¼-inch dice

¼ cup lightly packed fresh basil leaves, thinly sliced, plus more for garnish

¾ teaspoon fine salt, plus more to taste

8 (½-inch-thick) slices Italian country bread

Press or grate two of the garlic cloves. Transfer to a large bowl and add the olive oil, tomatoes, basil and salt. Stir to combine and let marinate for at least 30 minutes and up to 24 hours. Taste, and season with more salt as needed.

Meanwhile, cut the other two garlic cloves in half lengthwise.

In a grill pan over medium-high heat, grill the bread until deeply browned, with some charred spots, on both sides, 3 to 5 minutes per side. (Alternatively, you can use a gas or charcoal grill, or the broiler.) While the slices are still warm, rub each side with the cut garlic.

Arrange the bread slices on a platter. Using a slotted spoon to leave behind extra liquid, divide the tomato mixture among the bread slices. Garnish with more basil, drizzle generously with more olive oil and serve. (If the bruschetta won’t be eaten immediately, set out the bread and tomato mixture separately, and let guests top the bread right before they eat.)

Storage: The finished dish is best eaten fresh. Refrigerate marinated tomatoes for up to 1 day. Store toasted bread in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 2 days.