Since I was very little I always wanted to write a book; not a “Mom I wrote you a book” but a real book. Writing has always been a sweet release. For years I had quit writing with the excuses of “lack of time” or “lack of inspiration”. As of lately I have begun again. With poor spelling, grammer and story lines I have started.
I literally grew up in the kitchen, as a baby I was set on the table or in my chair and tried to be of help to mom or grandma with what ever the days work was. I have since grown, moved and opened a bakery. The bread I bake is all from recipes that have formulated and now it is time I start writing my book.
A book of bread.
This is what I know.
I have seen a fair amount of books that have no meaning, just words on a page. I don’t want to be one of those books. I want to inspire people to learn the ways of their great grandmothers, grandmothers, and mothers. There is to much comercialization and trades are being lost. I want to teach people that home made breads are still possible and much better than the “wonderbread sponge” that gets sold today.
