Wednesday, April 07, 2010

Accidental Olive Bread

This week is Spring Break, so I'm a full time parent* and it's been a lovely California week so The Kid and I have been running around, enjoying the California-osity.

A couple days ago, after a trip out to Avila Beach, we stopped by a cute little Farmer's Market to get some farmer's market stuff and while we're getting ready to check out, I see a little basket of fresh bread, one of which is marked "jalapeno". The Kid and I had been talking about jalapeno bread just the other day, so we decide to grab it.

When I get home and am putting away my Cara Cara oranges, cantaloupe and whatever else we got, I decide to cut myself a piece of the crusty bread. I bring it out of the bag and it smells wonderful (unlike my sister, who is an unrepentant wheatist, I love me some bread) - I saw off a big old chunk of it, slather it with butter and take a bite. It's perfect sourdough bread, chewy crust, soft inside with just a hint of olive... wait, olive?

Yeah, olive. I picked up the load and inspected it - it's speckled with black olives, good black olives, but olives nonetheless, not jalapenos.

But I'd really been jonesing for jalapeno bread.

But the olive bread turns out to be delicious.
Shit like this exactly why I try not to hold too tightly to any expectations - if you're stuck on a certain plan for how you want things to be or how you think things will be or how you know things should be, you could miss out on something unexpected and kind of yummy, like incidental, accidental olive bread.

*which is EXHAUSTING, by the way - Jesus, I don't know how anyone with more than one kid does it.


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