A few moments ago, I was savoring one of the quignons of a loaf of Barn Owl Bakery bread.
It was still warm, and the croute was still crunchy.
The flavor was somewhere between sour dough and heaven.
With butter, life suddenly looked pre-covidic.
"How good can it get?" I thought I heard someone say.
I had the bag from the loaf in front of me and being a compulsive reader - ketchup labels when nothing else is on offer - I started reading the back of the bag.
It's worth reading.
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