Lovers of arcane and utterly useless information may like to know that I once managed - I use the term "managed" loosely - a pop group called Static Routines, whose one and only single, released on Good Vibrations records, was a double-A side, with the tune Rock and Roll Clones (not a reference to the Co Monaghan town, incidentally) teamed with a pop number called Sheet Music.
If I were involved in the production of the song today, I would doubtless have tried to get the lyric to include a reference to the famous Sardinian sheet music bread, Carta di Musica, but had I done so 20 years ago, I have no doubt the combo would have fired me on the spot, and probably gone out and hired Paul McGuinness.
But, if the tune had discussed the famous Sardinian bread, it might have been a success, and not the richly deserved non-success it turned out to be. And Sardinian sheet music bread is worthy of an ode to its uniqueness, whether you make it yourself - there is a recipe in Eric Treuille and Ursula Ferrigno's new book Bread (see Megabites) - or simply buy the sheet music bread which folk such as Toby Simmonds, of the Real Olive Co, sell from their stalls.
It is wafer thin, and because it is effectively a great big crisp, it keeps very well indeed. The traditional way of eating it is to blanch it very briefly in water - literally for no more than one minute - and to then place grated pecorino and ripe tomatoes on top. A fried egg is often added, and the tomatoes can, alternatively, be a sweet tomato sauce, placed first on the bread, the cheese grated over and the egg placed on top.
But because the Sardinians effectively make their bread into pasta by dunking it in water, they will serve the sheet music bread with a meat sauce, a ragu, and even make a lasagne with the sauce and the dampened sheets of bread. With leftovers, the sheet music bread can create a terrific simple lunch, for it is as adaptable as a tortilla. Recently, with just some leftover green beans and the tarragon and hazelnut pesto we featured last week, I simply blanched the bread, spread over some aged, grated Cratloe Hills sheep's cheese, piled on the beans and the pesto and drizzled over some Sardinian olive oil.
It was a long way from Static Routines' Sheet Music, but I guess that is what life does to you.