Sunday, July 15, 2012

59/365 bread

My father was a baker, and made countless types of breads.  White bread, rye, pumpernickel, sourdough; you name it, he made it.  His giant hands would form the bread so evenly each time.  And the taste, oh, the taste -- better than anything I will ever taste again, I dare say.  He taught me how to like sardines on rye bread.  I miss him, and I miss his bread, too.
Throughout the years, bread has been a substantial part of the dinner table.  Maybe just a loaf of white, or a nice semolina with Italian food, or pumpernickel to slather with butter to go along with your salad.
Bread is holy in its way.
My dad worked seven days a week when he had his bakery, and said he figured God would forgive him for not going to church on Sundays, because he was making The Daily Bread.
I hve never made my own loaf of  bread, odd as thta may seem.  Now that my father is gone, I've lost my teacher, you might say.
Bread.  So rich in carbohydrates, it's the bane of all the dieters.  But how could you deny the body such sustanence, as rich as a piece of crusty and soft bread.

dad and me, 1981

*A free-write is a type of automatic writing, where you just go with your stream of consciousness non-stop. There's no thought to spelling or grammar, and no editing of words. Supposedly this opens the mind up to greater creativity. They can be 5, 10 or 20 minutes long. Suggestions for freewrites are always welcome. Visit Evie, with whom I freewrite, at the space between colors.


  1. My father was a chemist, chemical engineer actually..he mad e8 layer torte cakes from scratch. I just know my mom who couldn't flip and egg took those cakes to her ladies bridge part and claimed the credit for them. Hell of thing being able to bake and love the doing of it,

  2. AnonymousJuly 19, 2012

    Just thinking about the smells that would surround me as I walked into your Dad's bakery makes my mouth water, even now. I would be sent there to get bread, freshly cut on the slicing machine. And the icing on the buns...yummy! I also remember that whenever it snowed, the sidewalk in front of the bakery would be free of snow because your Dad had been up before daybreak, firing up the ovens, to get the breads, cakes, cookies, etc, ready for the day.

  3. Yea, it was great the way the front was always snow-free.

  4. AnonymousJuly 23, 2012

    I love this photo, it is beautiful!


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