Dear friends, I do apologize. Such a fuss I made here yesterday, so much noise, so much mewling and puking and fretting. For all my noise about the choices we make, and how they tell in our bread, and how I couldn't take it back, and why didn't I roll it up the long way, this is what came forth from the oven:
Shoot! I SWORE I was NOT going to come here again until after I went to Florida...and NOW I remember why! It’s bad enough that I am pasty white. But pasty white fat hanging out of a swimsuit is SOOOO not right! I don’t really even LIKE bread. Especially not the kind that I keep in my house (so that I won’t eat it). Now, I am craving warm bread! Aaaarrrgghh...Why does EVERYTHING here look SO good? Two more days...two more days....
Oh, Ms. Bakerina- I curse you and your perfect loaves. I can’t believe that I admitted to completely screwing up my own daily batch; I should have known there was no way you could have wrecked yours.
Now, Moira, hon, that’s *not* true. To paraphrase an old Graham Chapman character, I’ve had more bread failures than you’ve had hot dinners. I’ve just never published them. I once made a loaf of pain au levain that stuck to the peel as I tried to load it in the oven, and the resulting loaf, which was supposed to be round, looked like a map of Italy. I’ve had loaves that were so dry that they baked up with an empty tunnel inside. I have underbaked, overbaked, overproofed, and just plain made goofy-assed flavor combinations that should never have seen the light of day. This is why I’m such a braggart when things go right; only I know just how much it took for me to get them that way. 
O.k. I’m on this stupid no bread/sugar South Beach diet. I was going to avoid your site for a while but, I decided that even if I can’t eat the bread, I’m going to at least look at it & dream. Thank God your site’s not scratch n’ sniff.
oh gosh they look beautiful! I’m running right out to the german bakery…
those pictures of bread are so damn erotic.
i second orionoir’s comment. they are sexy and no doubt delicious, which just makes them more sexy (if at all possible).
Dear Bakerina,
The sight of these loaves fills me with desperation. I want this bread. I can make it, or die trying...I have yeast, I have flour...but how? Where is this recipe for a simple white sandwich loaf to be found? I know there are thousands of them, but I know they don’t taste like yours. Yours is a bread that cries out to be toasted, that sings of its need for slatherings of butter, and then falls silent as it disappears down your (or hopefully my) gullet…
Oh, Bak, as ususal, your loaves are so luscious that if it wasn’t Lloyd’s job, I’d eat them all up.
What’d he do in a past life to deserve you in this one?