What Happens in a Festival of Bread
I had not perceived regarding the idea that the bread world was far too extensive and more complicated than what I have thought bread to be.
So, I had chanced upon this somewhat-whimsical fair when my nose picked up the sweet scent of freshly baked bread. My guess would have had to be oats or barley added to the dough. You could smell the grains popping from the heat off the brick oven. And lo, I was right!
There is this annual bread festival somewhere up north. It was a rare occasion (it was an annual event, around Spring when the ground smelled of fresh mud) and the people dressed up like Quakers. But they had so much flour and stuff going around. And when you have too much flour, the next logical thing to do would be to make bread out of it. They had allowed outsiders to their festival, and it was joy for me. You could rarely experience the sight of bread being made, baked in a brick oven and immediately allowed for eating when it has cooled down a bit.
I got a hold of an herby bread immediately. I could smell the pepper, the dill, and cinnamon from inside my mouth. Cleared up my sinuses there too. That bread packed quite a punch. Needless to say, it did not escape me, as I had devoured the whole thing with much fervor. The couple just gave me an amused look, and I had the courtesy to turn red. It was a funny experience.
They had meat pies too, though not the same as we city-folks have it. It’s still inside the whole bread, so you really get a full meal. And there was lots of different types. I really did not venture trying each and every bread, but I went for the safest I could think of: turkey. So there I sat and ate. The turkey seemed…strong. Or something, I really can’t tell. Probably wild, since I never had wild turkey before. If the thing in the groceries count anyway. Others took to pork or mutton.
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