Why do I love bread soooo much?

Ok, so it's not much of an update--I've been busy, yo! As clearly much of the rest of my neighborhood has been judging by the lull in posts lately. Last night after working out--lifting weights like a weakling--I stopped by Central Market and ordered a little margherita pizza to go for dinner. While waiting I wandered around and over toward the bakery...and I gave into temptation. I bought a loaf of French artisan bread, then started snacking even as I waited for my pizza.

I tore bits off and ate it--the bread, not the pizza--all the way on the drive home. It was so good. So. So. GOOD. The crusty, nutty outside layer and the soft, fluffy white inside. Bite after bite, mouthful after mouthful, was absolute heaven. I ate about half of it.

And then I realized...bread is my favorite food. Not chocolate. Not even my grandma's enchiladas. Just bread, of all kinds and cuisines. Crusty French bread, earthy multigrain country bread, rye bread, wheat bread, pita bread, naan, knobs of shiny Italian goodness, sourdough...you name it, I love it. And I can't help myself. Yes, I admit it.

My name is Vanessa, and I'm a bread-aholic.

And I am so hungry all of a sudden...I think I need some protein.

[Incidentally, in my sleepiness last night I forgot to put the bread in the fridge and just left it on the edge of the counter. This morning I found it on the floor--obviously pulled down my kitties. While it was still in the plastic, I hadn't put the twist tie back on and the possibility that the kitties had been nibbling was too much for even this bread lover to chance. I tossed the rest of it. I shall just have to buy more soon.]