Best bread I ever ate was in Izmir, Turkey. You had to go to the bakery to get it, and there was always a line. The line ended at a small hole in a blank wall. That was the bakery. You got your bread, always fresh, then went home and had it for breakfast. Then tried to eat the rest for supper, because often it had mold by the next morning, so you had to go out and get fresh bread. But was it ever good. Had to be good to want to go out early in the morning, rain or shine, then stand in a line outside, and buy a loaf or two of fresh bread. It was really that good.
"It ain't what you're told, it's what you know." - Granny Weatherwax
Fawkahwe tribal police SWAT Team
Some days, the supply of available curse words is insufficient to meet my demands.
.....Call me a craftsman, artisan, or artistic, and I will accept that. Call me an artist and you will likely get a quite rude comment in return. I am not a @#$%ing artist.