Weekend recap in bread loaves! 🦋

Weekend Recap in Bread Loaves 🦋

There’s something poetic about capturing a weekend in the language of bread. Each loaf tells a story—a slow, rhythmic process of kneading, rising, and baking that mirrors the gentle pace of time passing. This past weekend felt like a quiet symphony of dough, flour, and laughter, with every loaf bringing its own kind of comfort. Here’s how it all unfolded, slice by slice.

Saturday Morning: Einkorn French Toast Loaf

The weekend started off with a familiar favorite: an einkorn French toast loaf. Einkorn flour has this beautiful, subtle nuttiness, and the bread it makes is soft, almost pillowy, with a slightly sweet flavor. I baked the loaf early in the morning, enjoying the calming ritual of mixing and kneading the dough as the sun peeked through a layer of clouds. There’s something special about the smell of fresh bread mingling with the first light of the day—it’s like a promise of good things to come.

Once the bread had cooled, I sliced it thickly for French toast. The kitchen filled with the scent of cinnamon, vanilla, and sizzling butter. As the rain began tapping lightly against the window, we sat down to a breakfast that tasted like a hug in food form. The slices were golden brown and crisp on the outside, soft and custardy on the inside, perfect with a drizzle of warm maple syrup. It was a cozy, comforting start, the kind of breakfast that makes you want to linger a little longer at the table.

Saturday Afternoon: Herb-Infused Focaccia

With the rain still falling steadily, I turned to a savory classic for lunch: rosemary and sea salt focaccia. This loaf feels like an invitation to play—it’s the kind of bread you press your fingers into, creating little dimples that hold pools of olive oil and scatterings of herbs. I layered the top with sprigs of fresh rosemary, thin slices of red onion, and a dusting of flaky sea salt. As the dough rose, the house filled with the heady, earthy aroma of herbs and yeast.

Baking focaccia is like watching a work of art take shape. When it came out of the oven, golden and crisp, it looked almost too beautiful to eat. But we couldn’t resist for long. We tore into it while it was still warm, dipping pieces into olive oil and balsamic vinegar. The crust was crispy and slightly salty, the inside airy and light. It was the perfect rainy-day lunch, paired with a bowl of tomato soup that we sipped between bites, savoring the harmony of flavors.

Sunday: A Hearty Loaf with Hannah 🥖

Sunday is always special, thanks to the tradition I share with Hannah. We spend the morning baking our lunch loaf together—a time to connect, chat, and create something with our hands. This week, we chose a whole wheat loaf, adding sunflower seeds for a bit of crunch. There’s a rhythm to our routine: mixing, kneading, shaping. It’s a dance we’ve perfected over many Sundays, accompanied by laughter and stories.

The loaf we made was rustic and hearty, the kind of bread that feels like it’s giving you a hug back. We sliced it fresh from the oven, still steaming, and served it alongside a simple meal of baked fish and a crisp salad. It’s amazing how a loaf of bread can turn a humble meal into something special. As we ate, we listened to the rain falling steadily outside, feeling grateful for the quiet moments of connection.

Sunday Evening: Banana Bread to Wrap It All Up

To round off the weekend, I baked a classic banana bread. It’s a recipe that never fails to bring comfort, filled with ripe bananas, crunchy walnuts, and just enough chocolate chips to make it feel indulgent. The smell of it baking was enough to bring everyone into the kitchen, drawn by the sweet, homey aroma.

Banana bread is like the final act of a weekend baking session—a soft, sweet note to end on. We didn’t wait for it to cool completely before slicing in, enjoying it warm, with the chocolate still melty and gooey. We paired it with mugs of herbal tea, curling up on the couch as the rain continued to fall outside. It was the perfect end to a weekend of baking, a sweet and satisfying conclusion.

In the end, this weekend was a series of small, simple moments, tied together by the act of baking bread. Each loaf was a story, a memory, a snapshot of time spent in good company. As the rain drummed softly on the roof, I felt a deep sense of contentment, knowing that the weekend was captured perfectly—not in photos or words, but in the taste and texture of bread. 🦋🍞

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