A Treat

Himself went shopping and brought me a treat. Italian Wonderbread aka Scali bread. This was the bread we had at my grandma's house. The bread has a chewy crust sprinkled with sesame seeds and a soft, tender middle. The perfect accompaniment for dipping into the gravy (pasta sauce).

Grandma didn't buy her Scali bread from the grocery store. Her bread came from Blundo's bakery just around the corner from where she lived. When I was 8 years old, I got to go to the bakery all by myself to buy the bread for Grandma. I could walk there and wouldn't have to cross busy streets.

The Big Kids (The Brother, Cousin J, and his sister D (only two years older than me) would give the old lady a hard time if she asked them to run the errand. Not me. I loved the tinkle of the bell when you opened the bakery door. And the heavenly smell of the bakery full of yeasty, bready goodness. All the breads in the bakery were artisan breads eons before artisan became trendy!

I was not allowed to buy a loaf of bread that was wrapped in a plastic bag. That bread was not fresh, but had been on the shelf for a day or two. Grandma wanted a freshly-baked loaf of bread, and she wanted it sliced into neat, even slices. Mrs. Blundo would take a loaf from the shelf near the bakery kitchen door, and she'd bring it to the special table saw where she would cut the bread. She'd put the bread in the plastic bread in front of me so I could tell Grandma the bread was fresh. I'd hand over the money, and Mrs. Blundo would sometimes give me a cookie.

Back at Grandma's as a reward of running her errand, Grandma would give me whatever change she had in her pocket. She sometimes gave the Big Kids a dollar just because, and the Big Kids would lord it over me that they got a dollar and I only got the change Grandma had in her pocket. It didn't take me long to figure out that sometimes the old lady had more than a dollar's worth of change in her pocket.