Breaking Bread

No meal is worthy of my mom's notice without a bread basket on the table. And not just any bread, mind you. Three things will make my mom harumph in approval vs. disdain: a big basket (read: lots o' bread), a fresh and tasty selection, and refills provided quickly and often. Though she wasn't terribly thrilled with her main meal at The Girl & The Fig, my ma was in fact quite happy with the country-style loaf she's handling here, tearing it up with great abandon and asking for another springy wedge to satisfy her ever-present carb cravings. She and my dad often get into squabbles while dining out—my dad upset with my mom for ruining her appetite by single-handedly emptying the bread basket on more than one occasion while my mom continues to gobble a breadstick here and a dinner roll there, all the while glaring back at him in mutinous defiance. Pa has even gone so far as to swipe the basket out from under her, moving it out of the reach of her eager little paws. Now, though I agree with my dad that my ma's got no self-control when it comes to bread, I don't agree with a man getting between a woman and her carbs. Let a gal have her guilty pleasure, especially when it's as comforting as this one is.