Friday, May 11, 2007
I love food. Not in a gourmet, eat out all the time kind of way, necessarily--but I do love food. I love the togetherness it entails, the cultural windows it opens, the love that goes into preparing it. I love expressions like "breaking bread", "sitting at our table" and all the other food related sayings that every culture has promising community and generosity.
Lately, I have developed a craving for fresh bread. Back home, one of the simple luxuries--and favorite errands--was going to get fresh bread every day. Since traditional Iranian breads are flat, it doesn't take more than a few minutes in a blazing stone oven to bake. You stand in line at the bread bakery, tell the baker how many you want (with or without sesame seeds) and a few minutes later you're walking home and stuffing your face with beautiful, fresh bread.
In light of my new craving, and the sudden availability of guilt-free time due to the completion of my graduate project, I have decided to try and bake bread this weekend. And cook. I already cleaned the place last weekend, so I'll be good for another month or so. But I will definately be baking and cooking. I don't know what exactly, but I'll be cooking.
Come on by, there should be plenty of left-overs by Sunday.