Home › Barbecues › Garlic Bread
Garlic Bread
Out here where nobody's afraid of garlic, we take a whole loaf of unsliced white bread, cut it a little more than halfway down, in thick slices, spread these apart, butter well, and put a sliver of garlic in each. Then tie the loaf together and leave it on any hot spot around the barbecue pit to heat.
A barbecue-side recipe with no measurements at all, which is fine once you know the proportions. The one thing worth changing is the garlic itself: raw slivers left in the loaf stay sharp and can scorch, while garlic worked into the butter spreads its flavour evenly.
- QuantitiesFor a standard 1 lb unsliced loaf, figure on 1/2 cup (1 stick) softened butter and 3 to 5 cloves of garlic. That is generous by modern habit but consistent with the tone of the recipe.
- Garlic formSlivers of raw garlic pressed into hot bread go bitter at the edges and hit unevenly. Crush or finely mince the garlic into the softened butter instead, and let it sit twenty minutes before spreading.
- Unsliced loafAsk a bakery for an unsliced white sandwich loaf or use a soft Italian loaf. Cut down through the crust in thick slices, stopping a little more than halfway down as the recipe directs, so the loaf holds together.
- Tying and wrappingThe original says only to tie the loaf together and does not specify what with. Wrapping in heavy foil is easier, keeps butter off the coals, and steams the crumb; leave the top open for the last few minutes if you want a crisp crust.
- Heat and time"Any hot spot around the barbecue pit" suggests the edge of the fire rather than directly over the coals. As an oven equivalent, roughly 375-400F for 15 to 20 minutes, turning the package once.
- YieldA standard 1 lb loaf cut in thick slices gives roughly 8 to 10 pieces, enough alongside grilled meat for four to six.
Garlic bread as Americans know it is generally taken to be a mid-twentieth-century American development rather than a direct Italian import, plausibly adapted by Italian-American cooks to soft American loaves and dairy butter, and it became familiar through pizzerias and cookout books in the 1950s and 60s. The defensive note here, "out here where nobody's afraid of garlic," is consistent with that period, when garlic was still regarded with some suspicion in parts of the country and a number of Western and Californian writers made a point of championing it. Postwar outdoor cooking books favoured dishes that could sit at the edge of the coals unattended while the host tended the meat, and a bound loaf warming on the stones suited that job.