Years ago, when a new supermarket chain came into my college town, I was hired as a baker.
How I landed that slot, I can’t recall (and I should really denote my job as “baker,” with quotation marks, since I had no training other than having made breads and desserts in my time).
I don’t remember creating anything from scratch. Rather, I pulled frozen bread dough from the freezer to proof in a tall, sauna-like box, then put the resulting loaves in the oven – making sure never to fall behind on any step so that we lacked product for display. (Early lesson learned: Do not attempt to slice a loaf that hasn’t cooled, no matter how insistent the customer, to avoid a mushed mess).
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