I made my very own bread today. And no, I don’t mean a juicy paycheck. I made real, honest-to-goodness bread today with my own two hands.
While a paycheck would’ve been nice, I can’t tell you how proud I was to open the oven and find a perfect, rotund bread loaf just waiting for me to photograph (I mean eat).
I couldn’t wait to get it out of the oven and take it’s beautiful picture (I mean, butter it up and take a bite).
And who wouldn’t, with its flaky flour top and corn meal crusted bottom, it’s bound to look (I mean taste) like something out of O Magazine or a Nigella Lawson cookbook.
But then again what am I obsessing about, it’s just a simple loaf of bread (it’s more photogenic than a teen beauty queen, people).
I’ve never had so much respect for a pile of flour or the hard work of a warm oven. It’s crackly on the outside and squishy on the inside, folks. It tastes like getting out of school early on the first day of summer.
What more can I say? This bread was made to photograph (I mean, devour).
