It shouldn’t be so hard to come by, it shouldn’t be such a taboo, but sating my desire is becoming increasingly difficult.

It is a fact that Marijuana is more readily available in Boulder than good quality bread. Wheaty gluteny goodness; Its all I ask. I don’t want sweet soft malleable white sponge. I want crunchy thick crusts surrounding a slightly sour airy filling.

I don’t want a uniformly square edged loaf of evenly sliced pages; I need an uneven, hand shaped boule of mixed brown colours. I would rather my bread be protected by nothing more than a thin paper bag. To wrap your loaf in two layers of plastic is to miss the point – you don’t need to keep bread fresh longer, rather you must eat it quicker and buy it more regularly.

Bread had a formative role in my youth. The stroll to the bakery was as big a part of every day life as the first fresh pot of tea brewed. We would wander slowly down the road with the dog trotting along beside us, nosily seeking rabbits and other curiosities in the hedgerows. Through the centre of the village we would be careful to avoid those friendly faces that may delay our end destination just a little too long. The bakery was a meeting point, a centre of information; the gossip as local and fresh as the bread being made. With loaf, or often loaves, in hand, the walk home would be more direct. Readying in anticipation of the toast to be made, with homemade honey and my Mum’s unbeatable Marmalade.

Things got even better when my brother began as the baker’s understudy – he would be awake an at work before my sleep was even half over. Shaping and baking and making scones. The reward for my lazy self would be the mid-morning parcel of paper wrapped bread that inevitably accompanied his return home.

But now bread is more scarce. I have to plan my acquisitions more carefully – deviate on my route home to ensure I pass the few supermarkets in town that cater to my niche needs. Its true, there are a bakery or two in the town, but when a loaf can easily cost $5, these are out of reach for my everyday needs.

So, to all those gluten-intolerant, or gluten-fashion-followers reading – please respect my need for yeast enriched wheat products, and I will warily respect your own desire to avoid this awesome creation of modern civilisation.