Showerthought: My street used to smell like bread every Saturday morning.
When I was a kid, my mom and I baked bread every Saturday without fail. The whole street would catch the smell from our kitchen window, and neighbors would often drop by for a chat and a warm slice. We used a simple rye recipe from my grandma, and it felt like a weekly event. Now, I bake alone in my apartment, and no one seems to notice or come over like before. I miss those easy talks over butter and flour with people from all around. It makes me wonder if baking has lost some of its social glue. Has baking become more private for you too?