This is not an analogy: I am actually writing about highly processed white bread. When I was a child, bread came in three kinds: white, rye, whole wheat, and pumpernickel. We ate mostly white bread at home, sometimes whole wheat. Our little town had a fabulous Italian bakery that made the best Italian bread you can imagine. I still, all these years later, have not found one better. But I digress. White bread is the topic and it’s related to my non-stop reading.
Even as a child, I always had my face in a book. One of the earliest books I read was “Heidi.” You’ve probably read it or seen the movie. Heidi was one of those relentlessly cheerful little girls, like Pollyanna and Annie. This little girl lived in the mountains with her grandfather. They ate a very coarse bread….probably incredibly nutritious, but a bit hard to eat.
One day Heidi was sent down the mountain to be a companion to a little rich girl. It was there she was first served white bread, soft, wonderful white bread. She fell in love with it, and I, the child reading about it, fell in love with her raptures over it. From then on, that was the only bread I liked.
Oh, sure, I was an adult who was aware of nutrition, and I ate all those wonderful multi-grained breads. I like most of them very much. But now that I’m old, I find myself reverting back to the love of white bread. No seeds to get stuck; easy to chew; a flavor that does not intrude upon the sandwich filling.
The bread of my childhood is now the bread of my old age.
Bon appetit!
Barb's Blog 