Sourdough starter from a past mentor,
recipe from my cousin, a dipping oil with vinegar and spices from my roommate's stash and expertise, and my fresh loaf.
Me and her standing in the kitchen at 6:30 pm eating warm pieces of bread from the same slice in content, giggly silence. This is exactly how I pictured adulthood. Me and my bread that took a village, enjoying it with people I love. This was such a simple yet profound experience, that it was basically religious in my half dark kitchen. I'm in love with my life.
im not always great at enjoying the fruits of my labor but this cheddar jalapeño bread i made is chefs kiss. one time my ex bf told me after we broke up he didn’t eat bread for months bc he had to vastly change his expectations abt bread … this is the nicest thing anyone ever told me i think…
It's so lawless. You’ll see the weirdest things and no one will care. People are so unabashedly human here. Dead expressions, exhaustion, boredom. You’ll get a coffee, someone else will get a bloody mary, the time is irrelevant. Your priorities will be tested, everything costs at least three times as much as it should, it won’t matter. I love liminal spaces.
