Power of food
Ihave a co-worker who bakes her own bread. I know, that sounds as exciting as a calculus lecture. But when she brings a loaf to the faculty lounge at school, it’s like Christmas. The smell rises, the bread melts once it hits your mouth. Add some butter and honey and it’s a delicacy.
That’s right. Bread is a delicacy. When I was kid in 1970s Little Rock, my family made regular stops by the Wonder Bread store on Capitol Avenue, just down from the Wonder Bread Bakery. My dad loaded up the station wagon and took all of us with some tag-along neighborhood kids almost every Saturday morning.
The store had that “grandma’s kitchen” smell to it, reinforcing that the memory of scent always seems to be the memory that lasts longest.
The back door of the station wagon would swing wide and my brothers, neighbors, and I would tumble out in a pile. I recall the storefront reflection of us, a bunch of tumbleweeds following my father through the propped glass door as if on a string.
He’d go the counter and start talking to the white-hatted workers, each with flour speckling corners of their faces, and shirtsleeves rolled to elbows as if they’d been at it for hours already. And they had.
The kids would spread out in the aisles finding fried pies, Twinkies, and Ding Dongs, my dad allowing for one treat each.
I always loved those trips to the bread store, as we called it. For us, it was reward. For him, it was a way to get us out of the house on a Saturday morning while my mother cared for my baby sister.
Later, as an adult, I asked my father why we went to the Wonder Bread store and didn’t just head to Safeway like everyone else. That’s when I learned a secret about my frugal German father’s Saturday ritual.
“We went to the bread store because it was cheaper than grocery stores. That’s where you could buy merchandise past its ‘sell date,’ which is pretty short for bread. We’d grab loaves and freeze them, but with so many mouths to feed, it didn’t last long anyway. Ding Dongs, on the other hand, last well beyond their ‘sell by dates.’ So …”
“So that’s what I had a Ding Dong in every lunch sack I ever carried growing up.”
“Correct.”
Now, Dempsey Bakery commands the building a few blocks down from that Wonder Bread store. Man, talk about delicious. Community Bakery downtown has that same vibe, but with a more bustling appeal. Boulevard Bread, Hillcrest Little Bakery, Old Mill Bakery out west, all have that scent of memory that takes me back to those station wagon Saturdays.
I’m missing some good bakeries, I know.
As my co-worker arrives with another loaf of bread, another slice of Little Rock baking, I realize it doesn’t take much to be considered fortunate. Living in a city that understands the power of good food sure helps.