Back to My Roots

Nuestro Pane
Keller, Tx
iPhone and Ink

Without a doubt, I am a creature of habit. On Saturdays, my day consists of getting up early in the morning, making myself a stiff latte, and walking to local farmers market  where I browse vendor vegetable stalls to find a few perfect vine ripened tomatoes. (If you have perfect tomatoes then you must also find the perfect bread for a tomato or a BLT sandwich.) Now that I have tomatoes, I go and find the perfect loaf of bread.

As a baker's son, this tradition means much to me. It reminds me of the days I worked the flea markets with my dad selling bread. I remember the mixtures of vendors and customers I would see. It was a real basic reminder of a simpler way of living, a time when we had more interaction with our neighbors.


After a while of strolling,  I go to see the bread lady, Cinzia, an elegant warm Italian lady with a smile of Isabella Rossellini. For a moment, I feel that I am in a different country experiencing a life that's full: meeting interesting people with real lives and stories. I'm in a different space altogether.


Bread transforms me and brings me back. I take out my iPhone and compose my shot: bread in basket. The story is there; its for me to bring the romance out of the bread. There's a chance I just might have done that in this scene.