My sister made Focaccia, a bread which is easier to eat than it is to spell

I love focaccia, especially when made in SUCH a beutiful and warm and oily way. In this case I'll use the one word which under all other circumstances I hate: yummy.
Just look at those tomatoes and there's a load of rock salt sprinkled around it so that you crunch into a lump (granule?) every-so-often. Perfect. It had come out of the oven about thirty seconds before I took this photo. Toasty warm.