especially satisfying

Cynthia and crusty bread

It was a colorful sunrise.

Gratitude/whimsy alert: if you need a fix of deep analysis (you might occasionally call it impenetrable as I know I get pretty far into some deep weeds), you will be disappointed today. Politics is already consuming us so you likely don’t need hear me every single day. The Nationals are so erratic: 14 runs last night, then unable to score one in extra innings multiple times this week. Too hot to go walk to look at the flowers far from here as the heat is weighing us down: we find it too overwhelming to walk outside. So, today we have admitted variety.

I want to do a positive column instead. It’s praise for that amazing institution called a local bakery. I mean truly spectacular bakery. The kind of place those of us who love bread dream we can anticipate joyfully every single day.

Most bread claiming to be artisan these days is not. There is no getting around to it. We grow phenomenal wheat so why not always sell the best breads??

For fifteen years, my husband and I spent varying amounts of time in the Berkshires over June, July or August. The cooler (relative phrase some days) air motivated the wealthy to flee a couple of hours north of the Big City in the late Nineteenth Century, expanding Eighteenth Century towns of Lenox, Lee, and the smaller communities into areas of respite from the stifling warmth of growing cities. With the advent of macadam streets, the urban heat island expanded so motoring on the smaller lanes of these towns appealed to those who could get away. Granted, it was a luxury for the elite a hundred thirty years ago but they set the stage for the modern era when more of us had disposable income.

My husband originally wanted to go for the music at Tanglewood, the Berkshire location for the Boston Symphony’s summer workshops and concerts. He especially came to love Sunday afternoons when the lawn surrounding ‘The Shed’, the primary concert venue, filled with thousands of people after the gates opened at noon. Some sat on blankets while most brought lawn chairs; everyone schlepped a spectacular array of mouthwatering lunches, various forms of liquid enjoyment, and some sort of reading material. Some encouraged their kids to run in the open air before the 1430 Sunday performances. Concert evenings were briefer because they started later but encouraged the same idylic time to turn off the nuisance of office politics or some other annoyance.

I went for the bread.

We discovered the Berkshire Mountain Bakery products at the local farmer’s market on our first trip. The crusty exterior and the sunflower seeds captured me instantly. I began craving the flavor of the bread when toasted slightly before slathering it with hummus, dried chipotle peppers, and spinach. Heaven on earth, simply heaven.

A Frenchman started this European-style bakery in the 1970s in an old factory along the Housatonic River, between Tanglewood and Great Barrington. We developed a ritual of shopping at least every other day. Their sunny flax, in particular, was supremely satisfying and completely vital to our summers.

We decided in 1 January 2020 that our late August 2019 relocation to Annapolis and its cooling waters precluded the need to schlep all of our stuff for a Berkshire holiday so we relinquished the rental cottage on the lake near Lenox. My only concern, unvoiced, was that we would never experience amazing bread again but I decided I would gut it out.

I had noticed a place on a corner of Eastport’s major thoroughfare (relative concept, people: the neighborhood has about 2500 people) called Bakers & Co. We weren’t here full time until late August 2019 and I will still working fulltime so the place became one of countless ‘I look forward to …’ places. I don’t think we even tried it until the late autumn of 2019.

Hmm. This is terrific bread I realised after the first bite. It was definitely less sour doughy than the Berkshire Mountain products but delicious. We had a narrower selection than in Housatonic but the Rough and Ready versus Urban Rustico choice became our weekly discussion. The bakery was closed Monday through Wednesday but we certainly were happy with the option of four other days year round with no 8 hour drive up the New Jersey Turnpike to get bread!

Then, of course, the pandemic hit. I have no idea but assumed the Berkshire Mountain location closed as did everything else. Certainly Bakers & Co. shuttered their wee shop. I made bread for weeks because it gave me something to do other than the endless hours on Microsoft Teams meetings from 0600-1800 daily. I enjoyed the baking but kept it pretty simple so my husband likely developed a tad of boredom. He never complained as we had crusty bread.

Then the Annapolis Farmers’s Market began allowing social distancing to encourage products from those brave enterprises ready to satisfy the pent up demand for all sorts of local foods. The Bakers & Co. queue was easily the longest because they…had…fresh…bread. And they had surprised us with assorted other goodies such as market buns (a cinnamon popover-shaped lighter than air delicacy) or quiches (for you non-vegans out there).

The importance of this discovery was that Bakers & Co., closed for almost a year, survived. They finally reopened their storefront in the late fall 2021 for three glorious days weekly. It took another two plus years to allow us back inside the storefront where they have half a dozen tables, usually filled with people having a nosh and the in-demand coffee Bakers offers in the common ‘flavours’ (I am a purist: I love dark roast black coffee so I am somewhat baffled by the other options.).

Bakers & Co. remains open only Friday through Sunday; we wish it were back to Thursday opening as as we cannot make our Sunday loaf (see exhibit below) last through Friday but Annapolis does have decent bagels at a couple of places. The most important thing is that quality crusty bread is alive and well in this town, a fact reinforced by the long lines whenever we pop by. They take orders for the weekend days but we visit much earlier on Fridays for fear a repeat of one of those disappointing days we waited to stroll the mile of so over there, only to find others with the same tastes strolled out the door with bread we anticipated buying.

We continue finding new things to enjoy. My current fixation is an occasional bag of ginger jumbles which I ration over the week. My husband loves his market buns but tried a blueberry muffin this week since cherry gallettes were not to be found. Every visit is a voyage of culinary discovery.

(Rough and Ready today)

So what does this whimsy and gratitude have to do with Actions creating consequences? It’s personal reminder that we at some point develop preferences in our lives, only to find them as old friends we maintain to enjoy our days. I decided I only want to expend calories on the highest quality of whatever I enjoy as I eat far smaller meals than when I was younger. It is all a zero sum game at this juncture in life since I move less than I used to. High quality products often also transport to a different point in out lives, often something we did not even realise we missed.

Such sheer joy and satisfaction, two items too often missing these days.

What takes you back to such a memory? What is your preference? Is it food, drink, or hearing a song? I look forward to understanding what brings you that special enjoyment.

If you find the column of value, please feel free to circulate it. Thank you for reading today or any day. Thank the subscribers who contribute financially as you are advancing what I do every single day.

Still hot, still dangerously hot, so be well and be safe. FIN