Many a late morning have I spent in those woods with sun streaming through the trees and last nights rain still dripping from branches on my shiny balden head.

I sit on a log thoughtfully chewing (and yes, this is definitely chewing) on a shred of this foccacia bread, stretched and mercilessly torn, heartily adorned with ground beef and grilled onion.

There is a firepit but I light no fire. There is no need for that now. The cool moisture of the moss soaks into the seat of my pants, and the drip… drip… drip… is creating a steady flow of water down the back of my shirt.

I become lost in the sound of the Skykomish River roaring past at the edge of the forest. Still chewing, now as soggy as the bread I eat, I can feel my mind decompose. My body melts away, dissolved into a spongey forest floor and here I become one with the elements.

Many a late morning have I spent in those woods with sun streaming through the trees and last nights rain still dripping from branches on my shiny balden head.

I sit on a log thoughtfully chewing (and yes, this is definitely chewing) on a shred of this foccacia bread, stretched and mercilessly torn, heartily adorned with ground beef and grilled onion.

There is a firepit but I light no fire. There is no need for that now. The cool moisture of the moss soaks into the seat of my pants, and the drip… drip… drip… is creating a steady flow of water down the back of my shirt.

I become lost in the sound of the Skykomish River roaring past at the edge of the forest. Still chewing, now as soggy as the bread I eat, I can feel my mind decompose. My body melts away, dissolved into a spongey forest floor and here I become one with the elements.

Tonight, I received the highest compliment. As my normally picky 5 year old sat there, savoring her first bite, with her eyes half-closed, she let out a huge sigh of contentment and said, “When you make this, it makes me want to never eat anything else ever again.”

My favorite way to make the panade is when I use a small loaf of seeded French bread (the fennel and poppy seeds take the recipe to another level of goodness), and served with a salad of arugula with grapefruit/ginger dressing.

So. Freaking. Good.

I used homemade broth, which had a lot of gelatin in it, so we didn't have quite as much brothiness as it looks like you did in your photos. Next time, I might use a bigger dish and add a little extra broth. My husband and I were fighting over the saucy broth at the bottom of the dish. A bigger dish would also help with overflow–the rimmed baking sheet I put under my 2.5 quart casserole was full of black, charred broth by the time it was finished. Perhaps that's another reason we didn't end up with as much broth, eh?

Like another reader, I also skipping the step where you simmer everything in the dish on the stove. I just poured the simmering broth/water mix into the other ingredients and threw it in the oven for the max time suggested. It turned out great. Thanks!

Michelle