Over the years, my father-in-law would occasionally bake bread on the weekends. Two Decembers ago, my mother-in-law passed away. Sadly, this left FIL with a lot more time on his hands than he knew what to do with, so his bread-baking productivity got bumped up a notch. Or two.
So what has been a weekend blessing for many months has now become a three-loaf-a-week blessing and bathroom scale curse.
There is no aroma in the world like freshly-baked bread.
However, large hunks of warm bread are not on the MUFA diet, or any diet, except the beloved but very ineffective "My Dream Diet."
We are buried in bread. Really good-smelling bread.
And then yesterday, my husband walked in the door with a new FIL homemade treat: