Crumby

It's your last day of vacation and you're at the Penticton Farmers Market when you spy a loaf of bread so beautiful and rustic and sesame-crusted that it's bought before you've even finished browsing. So you also end up with a dark chocolate-stuffed baguette. It's not much of a contest when it comes to choosing which to have for supper that night. (Chocolate). The first loaf is forgotten the next day when you arrive at your parent's house where the bread basket overfloweth. When you finally get home the bread is substantially older and drier, but at least you are wiser. Better make some breadcrumbs.

You might think you should use a bread knife but the bread is so stale that you have to bite hunks off to spit into your coffee grinder, where they're whirled into fine breadcrumb oblivion. You toast them in a 350 F oven for about 10 minutes - maybe more, maybe less. You weren't really looking at the clock. It's wise to check on them often because one second you're thinking they need some sun, the next you're reaching for the aloe vera. Dump those babies into a bowl because you didn't pay five dollars, spend half an hour chewing and then nearly overheat your coffee grinder for nothin'. (They'll burn if they stay on the baking sheet). Toss them with some fine sea salt (to taste) and olive oil (about two tablespoons for each cup and a half of breadcrumbs). Feel free to use different types of oil too - a wee bit of hemp oil is rather scrumptious. 

You can sprinkle your breadcrumbs over grilled vegetables (try zucchini with pecorino), a sumptuous hash (with fresh shelling beans, tomatoes, corn, potatoes and zucchini as the major players), pasta or just leave the bowl on your kitchen table so you can eat a spoonful every time you walk by. There you have it - breadcrumbs!