It’s a sunny day here in Berlin, and after a big writing push, we are taking it easy, having a rather indulgently lazy morning. This involved breakfast of grapefruit, coffee, and dense German bread with butter and jam.
The daffodils and cilantro are from the Winterfeldtmarkt, which I’ll be posting about shortly. The bread we got there as well, and it is worth noting that this has to be one of the heaviest loaves of bread I have ever lifted. I didn’t realize it till the other day, really, as Paul had carried our bag of bread back from the market on Saturday, but I reached into the breadbox to pull out the whole grain loaf we had purchased, I was astounded. “This must weigh two or three pounds!” I exclaimed to Paul, who hefted it in his hand with a “wow.”
As it turns out, there was no need for me to estimate: as with everything in Germany, this loaf is made to exact specifications, and its weight is posted on a little circle of paper stuck to the loaf with a bit of flour paste.
That’s right: one kilogram of organic whole grain rye bread. Crusty on the outside, moist and chewy on the inside. Mom, you’re going to be in heaven here.