Good bread, and I mean the kind that meets the rigorous demands of the title of penultimate comfort food, makes me get into all sorts of trouble. A perfectly crusty baguette that’s airy on the inside baguette goes from obsession to nonexistence in a matter of seconds. But even better, a fluffy square of toothsome focaccia worth making out with – that, my darlings, is where it’s at. Correction – where I’m at. Continue reading →