Antipasto

I know that Antipasto is supposed to be only a preliminary to the typical Italian three-course extravaganza, but sometimes we live dangerously and make a meal of it. So here's what went into it:
•Provolone (which we finally got from Krause's);
•Genoa salami (Krause's again; we were never able to find Genoa salami in Italy, but then we never went to Genoa, where it's doubtlessly known as "Salami di Milano");
•Roasted red peppers - Did these at the same time as we did the too mild chilies. I've tried the hold over a gas fire technique, but nothing beats just putting them under a broiler till blackened. Then in a paper bag to steam, then in water to cool off. The skins peel right off, and the peppers are tender. Top with minced garlic, chopped capers, mixed with olive oil, then thickened with oregano and kosher salt.
•Roasted asparagus - nice plump ones: put in a baking dish with regular veg oil (olive oli has too low a burning point) and put in a 500-degree oven for about 15 minutes, turning every so often till nicely browned, then douse with EVOO and salt--I guarantee you'll never bother to boil asparagus again;
•Artichoke hearts (straight from the giant Costco jar);
•Cherry tomatoes (from farmers' market and our garden - now that's more like it);
•Green olive and artichoke tapenade, which Holt made a while ago. It used up some poor-quality green olives that we'd bought by mistake and somewhat improved - but not enough - by soaking them in David Warda's wonderful balsamic, fresh herb, and orange peel marinade. The tapenade was great, though, and got spread onto:
•Holt's homemade Italian rye bread - yes, you read right (from Carol Field's The Italian Baker: one of the cleverest presents Barbara ever gave Holt). Made us think of an Alto Adige glockenspiel band we saw in the Piazza della Signoria in Florence one day; we called them "The Marching Pinocchios."