I have been hearing a lot on the news about how so many of the people living in isolation are starting to discover the joy of baking their own bread and other goodies. So much so, that some groceries have run out of yeast and flour. Sourdough is suddenly a “thing”.
There is nothing quite so comforting as the smell of something delicious baking in the oven. Yesterday I woke up to the tantalizing aroma of cinnamon rolls. What a way to greet the day.
I should weigh 400 pounds because I have shared most of my life together with an amazing cook and baker. It didn’t take a pandemic for me to enjoy freshly baked bread or exquisite home cooked meals, because fortunately that has been my fare all along.
Although it is not a new experience for me, in these bleak times, comfort food (no matter how sinful and unhealthy) is something that fills a void that has been created by all of the stress of these times.
The cinnamon rolls didn’t last long; by the end of the day just the one in the middle was left.
View my photo-realistic paintings at: davidmarchant2.ca