I grew up about 500 miles north of Vancouver, in British Columbia, Canada, which means that walking home from school in the winter months often involved slogging through snowdrifts in -30 degree (Celsius - I don't speak Fahrenheit yet) temperatures.
Luckily for me, my mom stayed at home for most of my childhood and was a prolific baker. In fact, she even baked all the bread for our family - Wednesday was bread baking day. One of my favourite memories of childhood is tromping up to the house, scrambling over the big pile of snow the plow inevitably left at the foot of the driveway, and coming in the door to the smell of fresh baked bread. I'd seat myself in front of the fireplace with a book and she'd present me with a thick slice of fresh baked bread, still warm from the oven, smothered in butter and strawberry jam my grandma had made the summer before.
Bread and Cie brings back those memories for me. What else can I say?
to dare too confidently or not dare at all? that is the question
Il y a 8 heures