See that face? He’s maybe 6 or 7, and not happy that he has to sit with the “baby”. That being me, two years younger, and happy as a clam to be with my “big” brother. I am happy to say that over the years, […]

My father came to baking bread late in life. Born in 1920, he was of that generation of men who did not come into the kitchen unless it was to get more beer. Sure there were exceptions: a particularly good cut of venison, or a […]