For the past couple of decades or more, the cold summer soup known as gazpacho
has been widely celebrated as a near-perfect example of modern American cuisine
at its best. Nothing could be more refreshing, more vitamin-rich, and healthy -- or
so flavorful and yet so simple. It's been called a modern California classic,
and in the highest expression of flattery, it's now imitated everywhere.
But beneath its stylish coat of contemporary fashion, gazpacho is clothed in antiquity.
So ancient are its Mediterranean roots that no one can say exactly where it originated
or what its name means. Even in this country, it was around long before California
entered the Union; in The Virginia House-Wife, an 1824 collection of recipes that
is considered the first bona fide American cookbook, author Mary Randolph presented
"Gaspacha -- Spanish" as a salad.
Though it comes to our tables in a variety of forms, the contemporary dish is
almost always a soup, a puree, or coarser blend of garden vegetables -- tomatoes
and cucumbers foremost -- seasoned with garlic, olive oil, vinegar, salt, and
peppers. By most accounts, though, the original dish was made of stale, hard bread
soaked to softness in water and then seasoned, much the same as now, with oil,
vinegar, garlic, and salt.
John Mariani, in his Dictionary of American Food and Drink, says the word gazpacho
"comes from the Arabic for 'soaked bread.'" In some Spanish
dictionaries it's described as "an Andalusian dish made of bread, oil,
vinegar, onions, and garlic." It was in the Andalusian region of southern
Spain that the Romans and Moors left their imprint -- and it is there that gazpacho
remains a familiar and popular dish.
And even now, in the traditional cookbooks of such Gulf Coast cities as Mobile,
Alabama, and Pensacola, Florida (where Spanish influences date back to the 16th
century), you will find some old recipes for "gaspacha" or "gaspachee,"
a cold salad made with tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, and soaked hardtack or sea
biscuit. What goes around comes around.
In the modern versions of this offering, salad has given way completely to soup,
and the bread is more likely to be something like garlic croutons or crumbs sprinkled
on top.
At the peak of summer garden season the cold soup that has become my favorite
version of gazpacho is a hand-chopped medley of tomatoes, cucumbers, bell peppers,
celery, sweet onions, and garlic. The seasonings include several vinegars and
oils, salt and pepper, hot pepper sauce, and tomato juice.
And instead of incorporating soaked bread into the soup, I like to serve a side
bowl of toasted oyster crackers seasoned with garlic, dill, and other flavorings.
This is a wonderfully refreshing way to get your recommended ration of vitamin-laced
raw vegetables. It's also a great way to enjoy a summer lunch, and you can
further enrich it with a fruit salad, a glass of tea or wine, and a tangy fruit
sherbet or ice for dessert.
The Romans, Moors, and early Spaniards might not recognize our modern gazpacho
as a culinary descendant of theirs, but it's hard to imagine that they -- or
any lover of fresh, raw garden vegetables, from whatever age -- could be unimpressed
with a summer soup as flavorful and distinctive as this.