Italian Bread, My Love

The toughness on the outside, the softness on the inside. How can Italian Bread have such a flawless balance of texture?  As I opened my refrigerator perusing for leftovers, I glanced at the fresh loaf of Italian Bread purchased from the Dekalb Farmer’s Market. No preservatives or additives distract this bread from its splendor. Just pure, all natural ingredients compose this specimen. While I could attempt to make Italian Bread at home, the quality and impeccable balance of toughness versus softness seems to only be mastered by an authentic bakery. I retrogress to when I was in France and the early morning air was engulfed in freshly baked goods. My visit to the French countryside was a prime choice, as my sister would have preferred we stay in the center of Paris. Very glad my instinctive thoughts were not to be compromised by her influence, as the initial early morning aroma of baked bread thirteen years ago was a distinct moment.

Living in metro Atlanta, I rifled for morning bakeries producing perfect Italian Bread. Now you may say, bread in France is not bread in Italy, and I wholly agree with you. But, as I count down the days till I visit Italy in March, the fresh smell of bread in Parisian air is all I know. The thought of being able to inhale fresh bread in Italy has made me more than eager and ever so accommodating to anyone who stands in my way. And with that, I say, Italian Bread is my love. It is a striking figure that will never be interchanged in my sandwiches, pasta, soups, croutons or crostini. Manufactured bread is a blunder never to replace you, and I will always hold you close to my kitchen…and heart.

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