Hey Kid: Homemade Bread

There are few things that can stir up precious memories than the smell of favorite foods. If you have been around a while, the moment you read that sentence you imagined a smell and thought of someone you love and probably miss. For me, just thinking about favorite smells brings the scent of fresh, homemade bread. The first person that pops into my mind is my paternal Grandmother. I remember her making fresh bread every, single morning. We always got to eat it hot and fresh, but we had to save the crust for Granddad or my dad. While the bread was delicious, it was the wonderful smell that sticks with me today. Grandmother was a wonderful baker. She made and decorated the most beautiful cakes and piesโ€ฆ but it was her bread that was magical.

The second person I think of is my mom. For Mom, bread-making was a โ€œspecial occasionโ€ event. It took all day and she made enough to feed an army. And not a small army. While she made some loaves, the biscuits (or rolls) were her specialty.

These precious ladies have been gone for a while, but our memories of them linger on. Itโ€™s funny to think that the memories of these women can come flooding into our minds when the brain is trigged by a particular scent. Nothing takes us back as quickly or as efficiently.  It makes me wonder what it is that will make you think of me.