bread silentbob full of sodium 050221 ... mon uow you can have mine 050221 ... tender_square when routinized parts of one’s day are upheld to the degree that they become ritualized, the slightest variation is immediately perceived. take their breakfast, for instance. each morning they toasted two slices of whole wheat bread, spread it evenly with unsweetened peanut butter, and topped it with a sprinkling of chia seeds. they’d grown so accustomed to their kroger-brand, wide-pan style bread, two slices held them over until lunch. but in texas, his family shopped at h.e.b., and while the store did carry its own version of whole wheat, the slices were the width of their palms, bags thin-sliced like once-removed cousins of melba toast. “what is this, bread for ants?” she’s said, adopting derek zoolander’s indignation, the first time they came across it in his parents fridge all those years ago. and they laughed about it. not everything was bigger in texas. they both needed three pieces off the loaf per day to get by, especially when his parents made whole meals of salad for sunset dinners. 220507 ... tender_square (also, this has me wondering about the important questions, like is "texas toast" simply called "toast" in this state?) 220507 ... tender_square “my mom used to make the best bread,” she said. “she had this big, yellow bowl, lighter than the colour of that mustard there, and she would mix all the ingredients together in it.” my mother mimed an expanding and shrinking mass with her hands. “then, she’d throw a towel over the bowl and leave it to sit by the radiator to grow and it would get so big!” and i loved this little detail of how my grandmother would proof bread by her own methods when she lived on lincoln, lived on george. “her pizza was the best—it was more like focaccia,” mom recounted. “it was thicker than most crusts, and she’d just put a little bit of her sauce on it, and fresh mozzarella, and oregano and basil.” 221023 what's it to you? who go blather from