My father had left for Oklahoma City shortly after I was one year old and in his letters with the coloured lines arrived the dollar bills with the image of the Queen. We needed them to buy bread and, later, the satchel for school, my black corduroy shorts and the white shirt that my mother would sew with Oklahoma City the help of a maestra, a real dressmaker. It was perhaps due to this modest wellbeing that, when it came down to it, I couldn’t catch the drift of the tales my grandmother Oklahoma City would tell me. One such tale that still at times surfaces in my mind is the one which admonished not to throw bread crumbs on the ground. It was a sin; Jesus didn’t approve. And after we died we would be sent back to earth to pick up all Oklahoma City the bread crumbs we had squandered. I didn’t quite believe my grandmother’s stories but when eating I would look around where I was sitting somewhat worried.
Where is Oklahoma City? – Oklahoma City Map – Map of Oklahoma City Photo Gallery
The romance of bread
Bread—but perhaps we should use the term in the plural, since bread has many forms—has its landscapes, its archives, its mills, its tales, its legends, its saints and its ingredients, its myths, its folklore, its museums. And yet the great novel about bread has still, in large measure, to be written.
White bread, brown bread, black bread, dark bread, yellow bread, corn bread, rye bread, oat bread, of rye mixed with oat, chestnut bread, potato bread, of herbs, of acorns, of barley, of barley and rye, of lentils, of chickling, bread mixed with a thousand other substances, with lupini beans, millet, vetch, hay. Hard bread, sour bread, a sign of the extreme poverty of those who bought it, is full of lower quality bran, with discarded flour, heavy, inedible, cheap because of poor quality, of sorrowful cereals from sorrowful lands, of wretched stuff for wretched people, delicate, white bread, fresh bread, blessed bread, of superfine flour, scented, fragrant bread for the ladies of the gentry, bread used in the Mass, in celebrations and feasts, ammogghiato (that is, soaked), or dry, bitter, stale, mouldy, rock-hard, bread that doesn’t go down, bread to chew, which requires really sharp teeth.
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