Tagged: baker
perhaps there is a
perhaps there is a
fortune to be told in rolling
out dough – we compare
the faces of our work, air
pockets and bubbles and all
.
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it takes some kind of
it takes some kind of
courage to
bake – there is no
reverse knob
on the oven
.
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** in the absence of The Daily Post from WordPress, here’s your daily prompt: knob
someone has yet to
someone has yet to
count the number of
bakeries in the
city – where every
window is a lens
into craftsmanship,
every grain of
flour, a seed to
a symphony
.
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at the very spot where
at the very spot where
sky and earth meet to
duel it out before the
setting sun, there is a
free-standing
display case,
humming,
its curved glass wiped
down hourly
by the baker’s
daughter, a jeweled
exhibition –
where children and
adults eagerly
press their fingers
into the cool, refrigerated
glass and point out the
precise solution
to the day’s frustrations:
a glistening éclair
for an argument lost,
a delicate Dolce
alla Napoletana for
everything else
.
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y 