Few things make a house feel more welcoming than the aroma of a fresh loaf filling every room.
My grandmother used to make bread from scratch look effortless.
I can still remember hovering around the kitchen, waiting impatiently for a freshly baked loaf to emerge from the oven.
The reward was always the same: thick slices slathered with real butter and apricot jam while the bread was still warm enough to melt everything into a glorious mess.
Years later, when lockdown turned half the world into amateur bakers, I decided it was finally my turn to master the art of breadmaking.
