French Bread…

The other day I was sitting in a circle with a group of 3 year olds asking them their favorite food.  When they asked me mine, the first thing that popped into my head was French bread.

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Good, fresh French bread.  The kind that is soft and airy in the center, but crisp on the outside, so that it flakes apart into chunky crumbs when you try to tear it or take a bite.   Croissants and French bread both should be that way.  If it does not impart a mess while eating, it probably is not very good (or too old).

I have always loved it.  Since I was a little girl.  It doesn’t seem very elegant or sophisticated or gourmet.  I hate that it seems so basic (I have a reputation in my family for liking the most basic food).  But, I love it all the same.

And it is not just for the taste, it is also for the memories.  It reminds me of Ireland.  When I was so broke and could barely afford food.  I was living off one meal a day and the granola bars and prunes I had packed in my bag before the trip. But splurged on French bread and a little thing of butter.  It reminds me of France.  And the mystery of the missing ends.  (I finally asked someone why none of the baguettes had ends. It turned out that people would tear them off and eat them while walking home.)  It reminds me of Italy.  The mornings waking up to a fresh baguette my grandfather had gotten from the nearby bakery, eaten simply with butter and the best black currant jam I had ever tasted in my life.

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So, what is your favorite food?

 

 

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