Bread and Butter

By: Gabriela Yareliz

When I was growing up, my parents had a bread machine. It was a white cube machine. I have no recollection as to how it emerged or when. I just remember it.

You would place the ingredients from whatever bread you wanted in the book that came with the machine, and close the lid, and, then, you would wait.

The smell that would come out of that bread machine was mouth-watering. It would fill the whole house. One minute, I was playing, and the next minute— I felt like I was going to break into the bread machine for a piece like a deprived raccoon.

Then, when it was ready, you had to let it cool. Eating the warm bread with butter— a delight.

I was recently in a Chinese bakery, and they have these cube-like spongy breads that remind me of the bread that would come out of that bread machine. Yesterday, I had a delicious bread with butter. There is just a pure delight when it comes to eating a good piece of bread with butter.

Every house should smell like bread. They should make a candle for that. Or, we should all get bread machines. Do they still make those? (I looked, and they do. Someday, when I have counter space, I will get one). Egg bread was the best.

May we all remember the simple delights of life, every day. Bread and butter being two delights.