The flour flies into the air creating a white array of unbreathable snow. As it all settles a large lump of doughy stuff appears sprinkled in white. And my hands excitedly go back to work. I've spent the last half an hour whisking and mixing and kneading and throwing yeast and buttermilk and such. It's been an adventure. When baking bread one must really go into the day with only one deed in mind- to bake bread. The process from scratch takes quite some time. But oh goodness, when I finally take the small rectangular pans and place them in a heated oven, the home is enveloped in the smell. My mouth begins to salivate and I sit patiently awaiting the instant they are removed so that I may take a slice with a bit of butter. A simple taste, but a magnicant one.
