Baking buds, hi! Three hundred newbies have joined our gang since my Guardian article came out (wild!), and I couldn’t be more tickled that this is the first newsletter some of y’all will read. It embodies something I’ve been thinking a lot about in the context of climate action: Collaboration. Climate artist
contributed to this edition of Pale Blue Tart by breathing watercolor life into a waste-busting recipe, giving it an instant comprehensibility it wouldn’t otherwise have. Artists and writers, scientists and farmers, policy-makers and chefs—we need each other! Plus, it’s way more fun together.When I was at my parents’ house in Pittsburgh the first half of April, I was overwhelmed by a bounty that might seem less glamorous at first blush than a rhubarb or asparagus glut.
Every time I opened the pantry or freezer door, there it was in all its half-stale glory: Bread. There was a baguette the texture of a foam noodle, the butt ends of whole-wheat toast, an ostensibly “Italian” loaf with no discernible cultural markers except for the fact that it had come with takeout pasta—even some hamburger buns wearing freezer-burn berets. This stale bread, I knew, was no annoyance but a blessing, because of a maxim I learned during my sourdough era: Everything the staleness touches can be croutons—and a climate solution.
Uneaten food is responsible for eight percent of global carbon emissions (psychotic!) which is why Project Drawdown considers saving food to be one of the most important climate solutions any of us can take part in. While food manufacturers and policymakers have a big role to play in solving food waste (please make best-by labels go bye-bye!), home cooks do, too. In the US, nearly half of food waste happens in homes.
Back when I sourdoughed constantly, bread was my biggest food-waste risk. After tossing an unsettling amount of half-eaten loaves, I realized what generations of home cooks before me have known: Staleness is actually an advantage for crouton-making—it’s just time getting a headstart on the drying process that the oven will continue.
I also realized that if you store leftover bread properly (by cubing and freezing it before it becomes hardtack), croutons are never more than 20 minutes away, and can be quickly called up to round out lunches and dinners. A handful of the bite-sized crunchies adds heft to a big bowl of tomato soup. A generous helping turns a salad from a side into a hearty main if you also toss in a hardboiled egg or two.
Part of the appeal of croutons is their riffability, so I put together two flexible formulas that will help you mad-lib your way toward garlic-spice or cheesy-crisp croutons, depending on the contents of your spice rack and fridge.
When I think flexible recipes, I think illustrated cookbooks like Perfectly Good Food and An Everlasting Meal; and when I think climate illustration, I think
. Nicole is a dear buddy and climate co-conspirator, so we met for bagels a few Saturdays ago to brainstorm how these croutons might come to life in watercolor, giving you the gist of the formula at a glance. You’ll see her gorgeous art below, and who knows—maybe you’ll see it alongside my recipes in a cookbook one day! Two gals can dream!Add into salads or plop atop soups! My go-to crouton—she’s a garlicky workhorse without a single enemy. And she’s just as happy to be made with a hearty whole-wheat sourdough as a store-bought sandwich loaf. I’ve even made her with stale hot dog buns. The recipe calls for a quarter cup of oil, which is enough to get the croutons nice and crisp, but you can add a glug or two more as you toss the croutons if you want to venture into semi-deep-fried territory.
Ingredients
5 cups stale bread, cut into bite-sized cubes (¾-1 inch)
¼ cup olive oil (or neutral oil)
½ teaspoon garlic powder
¾ teaspoon green herb (thyme, oregano, basil, Italian seasoning, etc.)
¼ teaspoon salt
Preheat the oven to 375F.
In a large bowl, whisk together the olive oil, herbs/spices, and salt.
Add cubed bread and toss with tongs to coat thoroughly.
Spread croutons evenly on a baking sheet and bake for 10-15 minutes, or until evenly light brown and crisp. Watch ‘em so they don’t burn!
Serve, or cool to room temperature and store in an airtight container.
Serve atop tomato soup (like crouton grilled cheese), cauliflower or potato-leek soup, or a Southwestern salad…if you don’t eat them all right off the tray. I mean, those paprika-y crispy-cheese bits—dear god! Works as well with leftover brioche or sourdough as it does with rye or pumpernickel. Combine a darker bread with Gruyere if you’re really looking to fondue-ify, or pair sourdough and cheddar shreds—whatever’s in your kitchen, really. In contrast to the garlic-spice croutons, you shouldn’t add extra oil (or mustard, for that matter) to these croutons. The amounts I’ve indicated play nicely with the moisture in the cheese.
Ingredients
5 cups stale bread, cut into bite-sized cubes (¾-1 inch)
3 tablespoons olive oil (or neutral oil)
2 tablespoons mustard (Dijon or brown)
1 cup shredded cheese (cheddar, a mix like Colby/Monterey Jack, or even Gruyere or parmesan)
1 teaspoon paprika
Pinch salt
Preheat the oven to 350F (the temp is lower for this version so the cheese doesn’t burn). Line a baking sheet with either parchment paper or a silicone baking mat (this makes cleaning up the crispy cheese easier).
In a large bowl, whisk together the olive oil, mustard, paprika, and salt.
Add cubed bread and toss to coat thoroughly.
Spread croutons in a single layer on a baking sheet, close enough that they’re nearly touching, then sprinkle the shredded cheese over them. (When baked, the cheese will connect the croutons in clusters.) Bake for 12-17 minutes, or until the cheese is a crispy lace and the croutons in the center have crisped.
Serve, or cool to room temperature and store in an airtight container.
The watercolor illustrations are sooo cute.
Croutons are nice, I would use less oil for less calories :D
Would you be so kind to include the temperatures in Celsius as well, in the future?