The world has gone cuckoo bananas. Luckily I have been slammed with work. At home. To treat myself in these wild times I indulged and got a loaf of raisin pecan bread from the farm. Bread and I have grown apart over the years. It was nothing personal. No gluten-free agenda. Just some time apart. I’m happy to report that our reunion is going very well. This particular loaf was made by Texas French Bread. I worked there once. For… a while? A minute? A season? It’s hard to say. I was in a chaotic place with myself while I was under their employ and my memory is fuzzy. I do know that I failed to see it for all the good things it was at the time. I was drinking a ton and thinking about how it probably was not great that I was drinking a ton. Looking back though I remember being comforted by the buzz of the bakery. Mixers going full steam with the smell of fresh croissants in the air. Gossiping with the bakers by the old coffee grinder, dunking the most stellar gingerbread cookies in my pre shift cortado. And the windows… church like, really. See, most professional kitchens fail in the window department. You’re just boxed in and there’s nothing to let you know that the world is still happening outside, accept for the ticket machine. Watching the sun set as dinner service kicked off was a treat. Even if it fucked with my circadian rhythm. At the time I didnt’t give a shit about those sorts of things anyway. I wasn’t looking for the rhythm. For better or worse, I was just happening. At the end of the day the leftover loaves were for the taking. We would sword fight with the baguettes and then I would lug them home and gift them to friends. I knew some bartenders back then that would trade a baby sized batard for free tequilas. Saints. I don’t miss the tequilas so much.. but I definitely missed this bread.
Day 70: Raisin pecan toast and the last of the bananas with almond butter and seeds.