A Crisp Crust Discovery

I decided to step beyond the kitchen tiles and followed a dry, buttery draft straight into the dining room. There, resting on the woven seat of an oak chair, lay a forgotten woven napkin holding a tiny, curved golden breadcrumb. I approached it with reverent paws. Wedging the tip of my felt spoon right underneath, I levered the crumb upward until it rested firmly in the hollow of my spoon. The toasted, yeasty aroma was intoxicating—deeply browned and rich. A single crust flake can tell the whole story of a loaf, and I held that tiny masterpiece in my own paws.