WELCOME TO
THE REAL WORLD
...And well maybe anyway : It's the
place where things get interesting.
In trying to baste for a crisp and
buttery top, the baker misted with
salt-air instead. I saw him do that
while watching from a distance.
-
While working in the bakery, I learned
a lot of things: How the machine that
kneaded the dough wasn't always up to
snuff : sometimes too slow, other times
not properly engaged. And all those trays!
-
We had to fill them with the raw makings
of dinner rolls. Some 30 trays, each with
row after row of tiny blobs of dough arrayed.
We'd brush-butter the tops to get that glaze.
The fussy hotel guests city-wide thrived
on things like this, and the trucks went
out each morning. Soho Sunlight Bakery.
-
What a crock! It was, instead, a converted
machine shop from 1881, in a now-made-
trendy area of grime. Strollers strolling by,
rich girls boasting of their foolishness, a
place called 'Barone's' that probably thought
of itself as better than Rome. The ancient
red bricks leeched their lime sulfate or
whatever that was called, in great, white
splashes down the inside walls.
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