Today when I was having some embutidos snd bread since I arrived too late for lunch in any restaurant, I commented to the bartender that the bread was really good and wondered if it was from the king’s bread maker. He told me — “claro, estás comiendo como una reina.” He directed me to the panadería. It was open and I was able to go inside. No flashy sign saying “here is where the king gets his bread” or anything like that, just a bunch of hard-working people filling the oven with wood for tomorrow’s baking. The man who was there told me he starts work at 11 at night and goes home by eight or nine. He also told me that someone drives down a carful once a week. I wonder how they keep it fresh for that long. Most Spanish bread I’ve had could be used as a hammer within three days.
I’m sorry I won’t get buy any of this bread on my way out of town tomorrow, because they do not sell or bake on Sunday. Next time!
I’m sorry I won’t get buy any of this bread on my way out of town tomorrow, because they do not sell or bake on Sunday. Next time!