The Baguette

If you have ever eaten one of my Mom's homemade baguettes, you may appreciate this.   If you have ever owned a dog, you might appreciate this. If you have ever eaten one of my Mom's baguettes and you have ever owned a dog, you will truly understand.

My baguette was in the freezer. They handle the freeze well and even after thawing, slicing and toasting, are still a wonderful treat. My Mom made it and gave it to me after our Thanksgiving dinner. It was a treasure. If you have ever had one you understand. If not, a short description. The baguette is like a bread stick for Paul Bunyan. They are crisp and crunchy on the outside but not in a dry, powdery, cracker kind of way. The crispy, golden-brown crust protects the soft, tender, chewy, airy center. 

On this fateful day, I had thawed the remaining 2/3 of my baguette and anticipated eating it with real butter and a thick covering of peanut butter. Even as it thawed on the counter I could smell it and couldn't wait to bite into the crust. Maybe with a bit of honey or jelly to add some sweet to the savory (When the baguettes are hot from the oven or even popped out of the toaster, the butter and peanut butter melt into the large holes in the bread. Making it a perfect carrier for spreads and toppings.)  Ok, the baguette was thawed and ready for the toaster. time to prepare the spreads. You need to have your toppings ready for immediate application. You don't want your warmed baguette cooling down and losing moisture while you fiddle with sugarized honey or the lid on a jar of jelly that has naturally been glued in place. Everything must be ready.

The butter was at room temperature, good enough to spread on a baguette. The honey was fresh and fluid. The peanut butter was empty. Oh crap! No peanut butter!  That's ok, the baguette has not been toasted yet and I will just run to the store. That is how good this is. I would go out in the 10 degree weather and drive 6 miles round trip just for some peanut butter for my Mom's baguette. Shoes, jacket and stocking cap for bald head. On my way.

The store was uneventful. Or seemed so, I only had baguette on my mind.

I returned home and bolted to the kitchen, open peanut butter jar in hand. I quickly stepped to the counter where my baguette had been. What? Had been? Where was it? I asked Deb if she moved it or ate it. I didn't really think she ate 14 inches of a baguette, but I was in a state of panic. Then I saw them.

The dogs looking at me, yet not looking at me. All three of them. Heads down. Only able to look as high as my knees and with a sideways glance at that. Absolutely no eye contact. Guilt.

Waves of emotion swept over me. Disappointment. Deb thougth it was a little funny and wanted to tell my Mom. Hell no. I couldn't tell her. I couldn't risk her not trusting me with a loaf of bread and not giving me anymore baguettes. It would be a secret.

Two months later, I can look back and think the baguette/dog incident was funny. I called my Mom and told her and she thought it was funny too.