There’s something special about bread. Maybe it’s the yeast–or sourdough starter–that requires careful handling, favorable temperatures, and loving care. And then there is the satisfying mouth feel: the bite, the chew, the need to take the time to ruminate a bit so that when it lands in your belly you’ve spent some time getting to know it. Did I mention the smell? A savory scent that reminds you that this is a food of substance, it will hold you over for a while.

COVID seems to have brought the art of bread baking back to our home kitchens. Not only did people have more time for the complexities of bread baking (and starter making), but when the world felt shaky and threatening, maybe we needed the comforts that only bread can provide. I tried to get my personal chef (AKA my husband) on the sourdough bandwagon. I followed sourdough bakers on social media (including a number of friends) and gifted him with a sourdough bread cookbook, but it hasn’t taken…yet. (I do see him moving in that direction though…maybe one day soon he’ll take the leap. I know he will be amazing once he commits!)

A gift of bread feels like love in a loaf. It represents time, effort, and thoughtfulness, especially when it comes from someone’s home and hands. Being gifted a loaf of homemade sourdough bread on Friday at the end of parent-conference week felt like winning the lottery. Delivered into my hands by the hands of my young student made it even more special…and I could immediately smell that special aroma that only the best sourdough has. A perfect way to end the week. (Thank you Vanessa)