Bakeries

I try not to be a judgmental person, but I will admit that I judge countries based on the sheer number of bakeries I encounter while walking through their streets.

It saddens me greatly that America has lost its love for the main street bakery.  There’s nothing better than that first bite into a delectable pastry I’ve never experienced before or tearing off hunks of freshly baked bread and savoring every morsel.  I love countries where daily trips to the neighborhood bakery are the norm.

America, it seems, wants the convenience of one stop shopping and a bakery inside a grocery store just doesn’t cut it for me.  I want to gaze through the windows and see if the bakery holds promise.  I want a glass case where I can point to some yummy delight and ask for “one of those.”  I want shelves up to the ceiling containing breads of every kind imaginable behind the counter.  I was the waft of fresh baked bread filling my nostrils when I enter the place.  A coffee pot at the ready is always a bonus and if the bakery has outdoor seating on a sunny day, I’m just a little bit closer to my idea of heaven.

In my estimation, it’s worth a plane ticket to Europe just to have that full-on bakery experience, as they seem to do bakeries like no other continent I’ve visited.  Outdoor seating is usually on cobblestone streets.  Buildings are older and more beautiful than anything America has to offer - the architecture is pure eye candy.  Within earshot are street musicians who offer up their talents to anyone who will toss them a coin.  Life is literally and figuratively so sweet, near a bakery.

So it was for me last week in G’dansk, Poland.  I had a hard time passing up all the bakeries, as there were just so darn many of them.  Needless to say, I’m in love with that country.  I’m ever so thankful I am not gluten intolerant or too concerned about my weight.  It’s a good thing, too, as even walking through the tunnel under a major thoroughfare in G’dansk, I encountered not one, but five bakeries.  Under the street!  Five! I had to pass up at least four of them and it nearly killed me.  Of course, they didn’t offer the outdoor seating and cup of coffee that makes the experience so much more pleasant, but I was still quite happy to nibble away at a tasty treat as I headed for the bus station – American style – eating while I walked.

I know we have a few hometown bakeries, and I frequent them often, but it’s just not the same – mostly because they are attached to cafes that serve other food and distract from the main attraction – the bread.  Always, the bread.

What is it about bread that makes it such a fundamental part of nearly every culture on earth?  Certainly in the what-came-first chicken and egg scenario, bread came before bakeries, but in my world, bakeries come first, as bread bought in a bakery is the best way to start or end any day.