Each loaf is a unique, artisan, almost artistic piece, full of textures, colours and shapes. I like bread. There is no smell as subtle as that of freshly baked bread. The smell that fills bakeries with the aroma of night-time serenity.
I like bread, the bread my grandfather used to make, which reminds me of humanity, wisdom and hard work. The bread my grandmother used to sell.
The bread that later my father would knead and my mother would sell... and now, after some time, surrounded by the sea in this characteristic fishermen's neighbourhood of the Barceloneta, the kneader keeps kneading, the wood-fired oven turns every day, flour covers ever corner of our bakehouse, and hands hopefully shape what will become bread.