Focaccia
There are certain recipes that work their way into your life so quietly that one day you look up and realize they’ve been part of your family’s story for over a decade. This focaccia is exactly that. It’s nothing wild or earth-shattering — just the simplest combination of yeast, water, sugar, flour, salt, and olive oil — yet it has somehow become the bread everyone expects on our Christmas Eve table. As we get closer to Christmas (and I start gearing up for our Feast of the Seven Fishes), I knew this was the perfect time to share it. Focaccia may not be Italian-American Christmas canon like baccalà or stuffed calamari, but for my family, it has earned a permanent spot.
Growing up, Christmas Eve at my grandparents’ house was my Super Bowl. It was the one day each year where the entire extended family — cousins, aunts, uncles, and all my grandparents’ long-time friends — crammed into their home for the biggest, loudest, most chaotic, most heart-filling night. The cousins would hide in the garage playing Wii or Xbox, or we’d migrate to ping pong tournaments where someone always ended up getting overly competitive. We’d sprint inside only when necessary: to refill our plates, inhale fried calamari and pasta, or give the quickest possible obligatory hello to the adults before disappearing again.
Now Christmas Eve looks a little different — still 30 people (my family size is no joke), but a bit calmer, more connected, more about being together than evading adults. One day, I cannot wait for my husband and I to take over hosting, but for now, we’re keeping the traditions alive: my grandma’s seafood salad, my dad’s lobster ravioli, the dishes that used to keep my grandma in the kitchen for weeks leading up to the big night… and for the last 10 years, this focaccia.
It’s the focaccia that has my diabetic grandma sneaking a second piece behind everyone’s back. It’s the focaccia that my cousins pick at all night like they’re pretending it isn’t bread and doesn’t count. It’s the focaccia that gets dragged through every sauce, piled with every antipasto, and used to soak up every last drop on every plate. Simple? Yes. But unforgettable.
And because it’s so simple, you really can’t mess it up. You proof your yeast with warm water and a touch of sugar, mix everything together in your stand mixer, let it rise, then drown (yes, drown) your sheet pan in olive oil — at least half a cup, trust me — and drop in your dough. Flip it once to coat the whole thing in oil, stretch it out, press in those signature dimples, let it rise again, and top with rosemary and coarse salt. It bakes up golden, pillowy, salty, herby, and perfect with absolutely any Italian dish you can name.
It may not be the star of the Feast of the Seven Fishes, but it might just be the thing everyone talks about on the drive home.
Focaccia
This is a staple in my family's house around Christmas time that I'm demanded to make every year (but it's delicious and easy, so it's alright by me
Ingredients
- 1 3/4 c warm water (110-112* F)
- 1 packet of active dry yeast
- 1 T sugar
- 5 c all purpose flour
- 1 T salt
- 1 c olive oil, divided
- Fresh Rosemary
Instructions
- Add your warm water to a 2-cup liquid measuring cup, then stir in the yeast and sugar. Let this sit for ~15 minutes or until the yeast is bubbly and smells like bread
- In the bowl of your stand mixer, add the flour, salt, 1/2 c of olive oil and the water/yeast mixture. Bring together with the dough hook on low speed. Once it's come together, turn it up to a medium speed and knead for ~5 minutes
- Transfer your dough onto a lightly floured surface, kneading 1-2 times* then coat the inside of your mixer bowl with olive oil. It should go fairly far up the sides, and it's okay if some pools in the bottom. Transfer your dough back into the prepared bowl, cover it with a tea towel, then let rise until doubled in size (usually an hour, but depends on the temperature outside)
- When the dough has doubled in size, pour the remaining 1/2 c of olive oil into a half sheet pan, then dump the dough into the pan. Stretch it and push it to better take on the shape of the pan (you likely won't get edge to edge coverage here - you just want it to get to as big of a rectangle as you can without ripping). You want to flip the dough over in this process to get both sides coated in olive oil. While stretching it out, make those iconic finger holes! Let the dough rise until doubled in size again (I like to cover this with greased cling wrap so the top doesn't dry out and the cling wrap doesn't ruin all of the amazing air bubbles you want)
- While the dough is rising the second time, preheat your oven to 425* F. When the dough is ready to go, liberally sprinkle the top with coarse sea salt and fresh rosemary, then bake for 20-30 minutes
- Let it cool, then cut and serve
Notes
*If you have a spare set of hands in the kitchen with you, I don't worry about this kneading once or twice, I'll pick up the dough and hold it while the other person greases the bowl, and then just set the dough back in it!
The nutrition information is based on estimates and is not definitive.
Did you make this? Tag us on instagram: @salud.life.and.love
There’s something magical about the recipes that become tradition without anyone intentionally naming them as such. They aren’t the ones that take all day. They aren’t the ones with complicated steps or pages of ingredients. Sometimes, they’re the ones you barely think about — until suddenly your entire family won’t let you show up without it. That’s exactly what happened with this focaccia.
I started making it over 10 years ago for our big Christmas Eve dinners, not because I wanted to impress anyone, but simply because I wanted a good, reliable bread to go with all the seafood pasta, fried fish, and antipasto spread. It was supposed to be a filler. And somehow, it became essential.
Christmas Eve, for us, has always been the pinnacle of the holiday season. We’re Italian, so of course, the Feast of the Seven Fishes is the main event — and I mean main. My grandparents’ house would be bursting at the seams with family, friends, and neighbors who might as well have been family. My cousins and I treated it like our annual reunion Olympics: hiding out in the garage, playing Wii or Xbox, occasionally getting into trouble, and popping inside only to refill our plates or grab handfuls of whatever seafood dish my grandma had made that year.
And while I didn’t start making this focaccia until I was older, it has woven itself into that tapestry of Christmas Eve memories so tightly that now, I can’t imagine the night without it. Even as Christmas Eve has shifted into a more family-focused, less chaotic gathering, this bread has stayed. My grandma pretends she shouldn’t eat it because of her diabetes and then I catch her with two pieces on her plate anyway. My cousins grab “just a little bite” every time they walk by the counter. My dad uses it to swipe every last bit of sauce from his bowl like he’s performing a civic duty. It’s become that kind of recipe.
And honestly? It’s the easiest thing on the entire table.
Here’s how it goes: warm water, a little sugar, and some instant yeast get stirred together until they’re foamy. Flour, salt, and olive oil go into the stand mixer, and the dough comes together in minutes. You let it rise until doubled — it’s very forgiving — and then comes the fun part: you pour half a cup of olive oil straight into your sheet pan. Yes, half a cup. It feels illegal. Do it anyway.
Drop the dough right on top, flip it once so the whole thing is coated in oil, and stretch it to the corners while adding those classic dimples. Let it rise again, sprinkle it generously with coarse salt and fresh rosemary, and bake until golden and irresistible.
The result? A pillowy, soft interior with a perfectly crisp, salty, olive-oil-kissed crust that goes with literally everything. With seafood, with pasta, with cheese boards, with dipping oil — I’m not exaggerating when I say I’ve never met a single dish on our Christmas Eve table that didn’t taste better next to this focaccia.
As we get closer to Christmas this year, I knew I had to share this recipe. It’s simple, reliable, family-loved, and full of memories — the exact kind of food I built this entire blog around. Whether you’re making it for your Feast of the Seven Fishes, a holiday potluck, or just because you want your house to smell incredible, I hope it brings your family the same joy it has brought mine for the last decade.
And yes… more Christmas Eve recipes will be coming, including my dad’s lobster ravioli and my grandma’s seafood salad. Buckle up.
