I don’t know about you ladies, but I have to watch my weight. Hence the spinning obsession and the fact that I rarely, if ever, eat bread or pasta. Scoff if you must but I recall a few years ago, before the no-carbs craze, going on some kind of pasta jag and I blimped out like a goddamned puffer fish. I figured out what was up, cut out the pasta and the bread, and the pounds slipped off.

So this weekend, I did something very naughty. I bought a loaf of fresh-baked whole-wheat bread Saturday morning from the new bakery down the street. And it’s all I ate ALL DAY LONG. Breakfast? Bread and apricot jam. Lunch? Bread and peanut butter. Dinner? Bread and more peanut butter, with another piece with jam — strawberry this time!! — for dessert. All accompanied by cold glasses of milk.

I don’t mind saying that it was one of the best culinary days I’ve had in recent memory.

Too bad I’ll have to wait another year or so to do it again. 

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