As documented, I bake bread, currently various sourdough preparations. Focaccia is my go to everyday loaf. Pre-Covid, I made enclosed sandwiches from the dough and sold them at work with fillings such as turkey curry with mushrooms and eggplant, roasted pork, or chicken adobo.
The pandemic brought that to a halt, but friends and neighbors in close enough proximity still managed to get a loaf of focaccia here or there as restrictions allowed. Feeding people with tasty food makes me happy. I never truly considered charging money for bread until recently. It’s bread.
My new abode is a 6 unit affair and in talking to one of the neighbors a few weeks ago about my regular cooking pursuits, offered a loaf of focaccia. A few days later, I delivered a focaccia with half everything bagel seasoning and half sesame seed still warm from the oven. Her mother was coming over for lunch and reviews were good enough that she asked if more was available for sale. The answer was of course yes and the next week I delivered down the hall an herb focaccia with basil and thyme.
She didn’t have any ready cash, but I do know where she lives. It took a few days, but this morning, a knock on the door greeted me an envelope with cash and a six pack of Sam Adams Boston Lager as a tip. Somehow she had gleaned the information of one of my favorite beers. Cash plus beer for fresh bread seems a good exchange rate for my time, flour, yeast, water, and salt.
They are celebrating Thanksgiving early and requested 2 focaccia for the meal, one everything bagel seasoned and one sesame. For a dinner party, I suggested an 8 way score and she agreed. Since I am accepting money for baked goods, the term baker can be officially added to the various descriptions used to describe who/what I am.
Alex the Baker, I can live with that.
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