heaven in the bread aisle

It's a smeary gray rainy day in the Bay Area. The patch of blue sky this morning was all the sky I saw all day. I walked out of my apartment and over to the corner grocery store, which is always packed because it is magical.

The people who work there can be really gruff, but if you ask them about which set of pomegranates are the best, or which type of potatoes are freshest (out of the 22 or so available) they will tell you happily, and make you think they've let you in on a big secret, which always feels good. Of course, everything there is fresh and fabulous, but it's never a mistake to make friends with the local grocer when you're a food lover.

So, I hit upon the bread aisle and the most delicious fragrant freshly baked bread was there, and we were there together, me and the bread, and it all made sense. Of course I had to take home the sweet baguette and three mini ciabattas to make on the panini grill tonight.

And when I walked home in the light rain, fresh baguette melting in my mouth, I felt like I'd had a little success.