I’ve been thinking a lot about bread lately. As a child, I use to pester my neighbor Mrs. Swanson for bread and butter. Somehow, hers always tasted better than my mom’s. She coated each piece with a thick layer of butter. It was heaven to me.
My love affair with bread never ended. No matter how many loaves I bake, there’s still an excitement when I take a loaf out of the oven. I can almost hear the steam that escapes when it’s sliced. The long, cold nights in the Berkshires where I live might be one reason I have bread on my mind. Is there anything better than dunking a piece of chunky buttered bread into the bowl of soup? It’s so much better than using a spoon to get the last of the liquid.Keep Reading