I didn’t mean for it to happen. I swear. A simple recipe, no translations, no extreme recipe confusion and another late night meal eaten some time between 10:30 PM and 12:00 AM. Only a simple recipe, only a short blog post. BUT then I was stuck on a plane for 2 hours, a bus for another 3 and had nothing to do but to read about bread. And what was originally a simple snack, took on a life of its own. This staple, this grain, emanates an aura of nostalgia, community and days spent on the beach that we somehow have let slip into the past. Not so in Malta, where the baker is still known to you by name and baking is a craft to be learned rather than just a hobby.