Gluten-Free “Graffiti”

October 13, 2011

One of the things that I love to do prior to our guests’ arrival times is to make bread.  I don’t do it before each new check-in, simply because I don’t need a new loaf of bread each time.  But if we’re getting low, I do try to time the baking to just before 3 or so in the afternoon.  There’s just nothing like a fresh loaf of bread in the oven (or bread machine, the mini oven) to warm the senses, and even the heart.  I plan to try a loaf of gluten-free bread for this weekend’s guests, so in a day or 2, passersby may even be able to catch some whiffs of this gluten-free “graffiti.*”

*….Very early on, I taught Leah how to tell where we were in the Campo by using her sense of smell.  The south side was glazed with the smell of slain fish and no amount of water or broomwork could ever eliminate the tincture of ammonia scenting that part of the piazza.  The fish had written their names in those stones.  But so had the young lambs and the coffee beans and the torn arugula and the glistening tiers of citrus and the bread baking that produced a golden brown perfume from the great ovens.  I whispered to Leah that a sense of smell was better than a yearbook for imprinting the delicate graffiti of time in the memory….     p 7, Beach Music, Pat Conroy, Doubleday, 1995.

 

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