When I was younger I was very blessed to have a Sicilian baby sitter named Isabella. She was very old school and would cook and bake her own bread every day. She was a very wise woman and would give me pieces of dough to play with and form into little shapes. She knew to keep me occupied while she was getting her loaves and dinner rolls ready. Isabella would then place my creations in the oven with her other breads. She always made me feel that my bread creations were equally important to the ones she would feed her family for dinner.
During the day the house would be filled with the aroma of fresh baked bread. Thus began my love of bread. I would rather have a good piece of bread instead of rice or potatoes any day. To me the bread means so much more than just something to eat.
Bread evokes fond memories and happy thoughts as well as nourishment for the tummy and the soul.
On this national day of French Bread, please enjoy this album cover. I think it represents how I feel about bread.