Crusty Bread.
There is nothing better than the warm crumb. So many things had to go just right to make this wonderful seductive thing that haunts me, with its warm crusty texture. Warm water, good stone-ground powder, Yeast, sugar, and olive oil built its body. It had to be mixed by the Artisan, and then submit to his will being beaten, and rubbed with powdered hands hard at first and then soft. It fell and rose over and over. Sometimes it was sour, sometimes it was sweet, sometimes it had herbs, and sometimes nuts or pepper and beer, and even meat. And then while I await it was baked in a hot oven until a golden brown to sop up the juices on my grateful plate.