Photo courtesy of desszert.eu.en


Something I've wanted to do ever since it got cold: make bread. I love to make bread from scratch — the warmth and aroma that fills the house. The making of something that sustains and fills and is light and golden in the maw of winter is especially satisfying. This weekend I am making bread and I might even try to make my own butter. I've read some blogs that got me excited to try it. Check this blog out and see if it makes you want to give it a try.

In honor of all things bread, a poem about metaphorical bread:

Challah
(for Rebekah)
Annette Marie Hyder
From the book The Real Reason the Queen Hated Snow

Our hands floured with expectations,
we have pressed the heels of our palms
into each other's lives;
kneaded and shaped,
made something indispensable
of ourselves for one another.

We are staple, staff
and daily bread
each to the other.

You have been salt to my leaven
and I have been oil to any container
that has tried to restrain you.

We are wrapped, united, intertwined
pieces of a braid of challah
rising on each other's shoulders
into what we will become.

Look what we have made,
the fine texture
the savory aroma.

We eat it together.