Romancing the Stone

Bruno’s Health Bread is cowboy bread. Venturing out on its own, no superficial ingratiation, tough as spurs, strong as a 48-hour brisket.

Brought to us by express locomotive from Chicago, Kate Strong shoveling coal from the tender, we are butter ready at the station.

Effective as a door stop, although a tragedy to put it so low, Bruno’s Health Bread triggered a memorable bread purchasing Whole Foods encounter. Bagged loaf of “peasanty” looking bread in hand – how quaint the noble notion of a peasant – with strident slashes in the unpeasanty plastic.  Cavalier comment to the clerk that the crust looked sharp, almost dangerous. “You could cut yourself on that bread!!” said the clerk. I took it home with taming on my mind.

Bruno’s bread is smooth on top, no worry that you could cut yourself on it, nor will it slit its bag to escape. You could, however, lose a tooth to Bruno’s. Worth it, particularly when loaded. We’re broken now, our teeth ready to tear into a boulder, if buttered. The stuff is delicious. Virtue you need a vice to slice.Health bread is a total mind-body work out. Unsliced as it comes, we were advised by Kate to slice it – THIN! – and then freeze. So we did, and pull it out as needed, toast it up and cover with fillings and toppings that are up to the task. Forte. Stinky cheese, shaved brussels sprouts, hot summer arugula, dense homemade blackberry jam, onion hunks and always always butter to lubricate. Once you get the hang of Health Bread you feel deprived, limp, pinched, without it.

And then there is unhealth bread, the Bacon Rolls, also baked by Bruno’s. As you might imagine if you have experience with 14-year-old boys, these went over well with  my roommate, pork-product-boy. The anti-health bread, bodily speaking. Uber-health, spiritually speaking.  As the minister said, spoken like a true Unitarian, “Let it be so. Let it be so. Let it be so.”