This happens every year. The stores are stripped bare of bread on the day after Thanksgiving.
I guess the bakers don't bake on the holiday or the day after (and who can blame them; what a tough life). It couldn't just be that shoppers already snapped it all up this morning for today's leftover turkey sandwiches — no, they're at the malls, whining for Wii and pleading for PlayStation 3.
It almost always slips my mind, so I don't lay in a supply of loaves the Wednesday before. And by Friday: No bread.
Well, we did manage to find some this morning, but I suspect it's a two-day-old hunk. And that will be fine, toasted, though nothing beats a criterial turkey sandwich on fresh white bread.
Anyway, the silver lining is that this loaf is a Country French Sourdough baked by Craig Ponsford up at Sonoma's Artisan Bakery. I trust Craig. He knows a thing or two about bread.
Now, if only I could muster up an appetite. Give me a few more minutes.
Update: The bread was fresh. Craig, you clever thing. Delicious.
Friday, November 24, 2006
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9 comments:
How lucky can you be? Not only do you score bread at all, you find Artisan!!
The turkey carcass from my daughter's T-day dinner is simmering into stock. As mater familias I get to take the skeleton home -- a strange companion in the passenger seat each holiday. But I scrimped enough meat off those bones before they went into the pot to make a sammy for myself, just like yours except that I have no c. sauce. I made up for it with extra mayo.
I'm thrilled that you both know the bakery. (I already knew you did, Kudz.)
Extra mayo is a perfect remedy. Mine was made with fig chutney, and boy, was that a revelation.
Stock tomorrow. Too lazy to strip the bones today. (But I love the image of you driving home with a skeleton.)
Now I'm all about the idea of cranberry sauce on my turkey sandwich. A few years ago, a student introduced a new concept to me -- turkey and dressing sandwich. I mentioned this to my dad on Tuesday and he started waxing nostalgic on the joy of a turkey and dressing sandwich.
And I must admit that I buy thinly sliced bread because (1) I cannot slice bread that thinly myself, and (2) I'm not really a huge fan of bread -- except in restaurants.
Dagny: I made bread this year for the stuffing, because I was eating 100-miles local. So that meant whole wheat flour from Full Belly Farms. Well. My goodness, what a dense, nutrient-rich stuffing. It was pretty good, but a couple of bites and your digestive system is going, "Enough!" We have a bunch left, but it would be entirely too bready for sandwiches.
Oh! I just noticed you call it "dressing." Southern. Heh, and you're a Bay Area native.
xx
Enjoyed reading your posts.
Champ tastes much better with scallions, Mum got her recipe from an English book but the Irish always use scallions.
The bread looks very tasty, I love turkey sandwiches. I have to wait another month before I get one, mmmmm, drooling mouth!
CC,
You're supposed to toast the bread for a turkey sandwich.
Hi Beccy: OK, that's two experts now. I will do it right next time.
So, turkey for Christmas? I'll be having a rib roast with Yorkshire pudding (which I will probably get wrong, so come back and tell me how I did).
Kevin: I can't tolerate two corrections in a row, so I will disregard yours. Tee-hee.
whew! I was hoping for a happy ending!!
Stacie: Yeah, and I got a pic of the sandwich, which will be posted Monday, along with everything I ate for a whole week.
We are a nutty group.
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