A White Bread Kind of Guy

I make no apologies. I favor navy blue sweaters, button downs and khakis. I grew up watching June and Ward on TV, and spent most of my formative years in the “Casserole Corridor” of Long Island. I’d probably get a flat top if my head wasn’t shaped so funny.

It’s no surprise that lately I’ve had this craving for white bread. There’s something about white bread - the golden exterior crust and the snowy white interior. Soft, airy and squishy.

Oh, I know it’s déclassé and unhealthy, but I’ve done whole wheat bread a lot, so I just had to see if I could master that bastion of suburban uniformity, the perfect loaf of white bread.

But, don’t think I defaulted to that red, yellow and blue balloon package.

I like my white bread the old fashioned way. The Joy of Cooking way. I knead. I used elbow grease. I earn it.

The end result is the greatest thing since sliced bread.

Now that I’ve mastered white bread (does that sound like an oxymoron?) I might just whip up some tuna casserole and a few Mai Tais (garnished with maraschino cherries).

No doubt about it. I’m a white bread kind of guy. But, I bake bread from scratch, so don’t you ever call me boring.

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