Rustic Bread with Kalamata Olives and Tomatoes
Olive bread is one of the happiest uses of the olive: the salty, savoury fruit folded right into the dough, so every slice comes ready-seasoned. Get two small things right and it is almost foolproof.
There is a whole family of Mediterranean breads built around the olive, from the ring-shaped Greek eliopsomo to Puglian olive loaves and the olive-studded fougasse of Provence. They all share one lovely idea: instead of serving olives beside the bread, you fold them into it, so the fruit seasons the crumb from the inside and every slice tastes of the Mediterranean. This version pairs wine-dark Kalamatas with sweet sun-dried tomato — salt and sweetness in the same chewy bite.
What you need
A basic bread dough is all the foundation you want: around 500 g strong bread flour, 7 g dried yeast, 10 g salt, roughly 330 ml water and a glug of olive oil. To that you add a generous handful of pitted Kalamata olives and a few chopped sun-dried tomatoes, with a little rosemary or oregano if you like. Go easy on the added salt — the olives are already salty, and this is the commonest way olive bread ends up over-seasoned.
| Step | What to do | Why it matters |
|---|---|---|
| Dough | Mix and knead flour, yeast, salt, water, oil until smooth | A well-developed dough holds the olives without tearing |
| Add-ins | Pat olives and tomatoes dry; fold in at the END of kneading | Wet, early add-ins slacken the dough and bleed grey streaks |
| First prove | Rest until doubled | Flavour and structure develop here |
| Shape | Form a rustic round, prove again | A second prove keeps the crumb open |
| Bake | Hot oven ~220 C / 425 F, ~30–35 min | Until it sounds hollow tapped underneath |
The two things that make or break it
First, keep the olives dry. Pat them on kitchen paper before folding them in — wet, briny olives slacken the dough and bleed grey streaks through the crumb. Second, add them late, on the last fold rather than the start of kneading. Worked in early, they get torn apart by the kneading and turn the whole loaf a bruised purple. Folded in gently and late, they stay whole and juicy — little pockets of salt suspended in the bread.
Serving and keeping
- Serve warm with a dish of good extra virgin for dipping — it needs nothing else.
- It makes exceptional toast the next day, and superb cheese-and-tomato sandwiches.
- Like all lean, crusty bread it stales fast — eat it the day it is baked, or freeze half once cool.
- Refresh a day-old loaf with a few minutes in a hot oven to crisp the crust.
Olive bread: common questions
Why did my olive bread turn grey or purple?
Wet olives added too early. Pat them dry and fold them in only at the end of kneading; worked in from the start they tear and bleed their colour through the dough.
Do I need to pit the olives?
Yes, for eating bread — nobody wants a stone in a slice. Buy pitted Kalamata, or pit whole ones yourself for better flavour, and pat them dry either way.
Can I use other olives?
Certainly. Any firm, flavourful table olive works — green Castelvetrano, black dry-cured, mixed. Just keep them dry and fold them in late whatever you choose.
How much salt should I add?
Less than for plain bread. The olives (and sun-dried tomatoes) bring their own salt, so cut the dough’s salt slightly and taste before you commit.
How do I keep it fresh?
It is best the day it is baked. Once cool, freeze what you won’t eat; a day-old loaf revives well with a few minutes in a hot oven.
Olive bread is the most forgiving way I know to use up good olives, and the one recipe where I’d happily use the slightly bruised fruit from the bottom of the tub — it is all going into the dough anyway. The only real discipline is dryness and timing: dry olives, folded in last. Do that and you cannot go far wrong. Serve it with your best oil for dipping and you have a whole small meal from a bag of flour and a handful of Kalamatas.
Drawn from traditional Mediterranean olive-bread practice (eliopsomo, Puglian olive loaves, fougasse) and home baking.