I love warm, rich, hearty bread fresh from the oven, still steaming hot in your hands. Slathered in butter and drizzled with honey, or smeared with jam, or sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar. There's something so comforting about a thick slice of it. It invites conversation, encourages you to sit down with a friend over coffee and share some mid-afternoon toast and talk. It inspires connections. Simple, and sweet, hot from the oven and freshly made, with a smell so heavenly it's almost unreal. Maybe someone braided it pretty or kneaded it until their fingers were coated with flour, or perhaps they painstakingly whipped eggs till they were fluffy or folded raisins into it, or even swirled it with cinnamon. Plain or buttered, soft or crackly, sweet or savory, homemade bread is one of the most delicious things ever. Not only because it's better than store bought, but because it was made by hand, with love.
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