Bread is one of the best things in the world.
There’s a reason that every culture has developed their own version of the magic stuff, from baguettes to brötchen, from damper, naan to ciabatta. And besides the agricultural practicalities, I think it’s because baked, doughy carbs are freaking amazing. There was once a time where I gave up bread, and now I’m genuinely baffled why anyone, without risk of death, would do that. Fashion broad Diana Vreeland famously said ‘People who eat white bread don’t have dreams’ – and to that I say, bullshit, and eat some more butter-smeared heaven.
To oversimplify things horribly, perhaps one of the reasons I stayed on in Europe is because of the love of bread here. In France, our village had one main street, and two boulangeries about 300 metres away from each other. Similarly in Germany you can’t go more than two blocks without coming across a bäckerei. Bread is just part of the culture here. I would literally, while relishing the spirit of cliché, buy a baguette every single day with a very chirpy ‘Bonjour’. After school with little ones in toe, we would saunter into the boulangerie, stare lovingly at the insanely gorgeous cakes on display, and then make our way home in the afternoon sun tearing soft and crunchy hunks of baguette off and munching them as we walked home together.
It’s not unheard of, but completely unnecessary to ever buy the mass produced and plastic-bagged sliced loaf stuff prominent in Aussie supermarkets. Here, most supermarkets have a bakery in-store, AND next door just for good measure. Why? Because fresh bread is freaking amazing.