The 10 Lb. Loaf of Bread

After class on Friday, Gina and I went for some marathon shopping and lunch before that afternoon's cultural activity. As we were walking down the Rue du Cherche Midi looking for purple boots, I saw the Poilane Boulangerie.

I watched a PBS special on the bakery last year and knew that it was a family affair that had been passed down from generation to generation, was a Parisian institution, and that inevitably, I was going to buy some bread. Now even PBS is conspiring to make me gain weight. Their loss. They can keep their Josh Groban CDs. I'm gonna use my pledge money for liposuction.

I bought a round loaf of the famous country bread with the carved "P" on top. The thing is freaking huge and weighed about 10 lbs. The slices from the middle are about a foot long. It's also delicious, very hearty, and you can justify the carbs because it tastes very 7-grainy (alhough I think it only has one grain). And french people eat it and they're skinny, so it can't be that bad.

The loaf also stays fresh forever and is impossible to finish. As I write this, it's Tuesday evening and I still have about a quarter of it left. And this is after forcing it on everyone in the dorm, eating it for breakfast and as a midnight snack, taking it to a picnic on the bridge on Bastille Day, and having a few slices tonight (after discovering that someone ate the sandwich I left in the fridge. I bet it was a drunk Auburn Girl. Or Little Paul). I'll probably still have some come August.