Another Place Another Time :: Our Daily Bread

There's something pure and simple about a loaf of bread.
Few of us even take the time to go to a bakery to secure this
basic of life. We know it can easily be found along the aisle of a larger
store, which has a bakery section, along with other basics of life.

Wouldn't it be wonderful to open the front door and find this rather
natty fellow, in his tweed jacket / vest and tie, holding a basket
of fresh baked bread?

How about a giant loaf of french bread delivered in this Citroen panel truck ?
I love the way they're standing at attention along the sides of the truck ... .
rather like soldiers ready to depart on their next mission.
The mission: Feed & Nurture.

Purchasing a loaf from this peddler in Caracus, Venezuela (circa 1903)
would have been quite the luxury to the housewives in this barrio.
The norm at this time would have been bake-your-own.

These Goanese bakers have me a bit confused. They obviously work as
a team, with the large basket to hold bread ... . which then appears to
be served on a tray. Is that long stick attached to the basket?
And, why does the baker on the right rate matching checked trousers
and shoes ... . . whereas the boy on the left is sans shoes ?
During WW I these bakers were equipped to take down the tents and roll on a moments
notice, to keep their fellow British soldiers supplied with their daily bread.
Nowhere to put those trays of bread?
Not a problem ... . just sit them in the dirt.

And what do you think that little improvised device to the right of the photo is?
A canvas sling to hold the dough while it rises ??
Other places and other times ... . give us pause to think of that which comes
to us so simply in this time. Perhaps we should also pause to give thanks
for these small treasures we often take for granted.

For some other thoughts on Bread, see the other posts
for Theme Thursday - here.


I've been thinking about those boys from Goa.
And ... . . I believe my questions are answered by the fact that
this was a posed photo with the bakers exhibiting the tools of
their trade: the long stick being a long handled spatula for
taking the loaves out of an oven. Those British Army bakers
are pictured with the same utensil. What d'ya think?

With thanks to www.postcardman.net for the wonderful
vintage images.


Tristan Robin Blakeman said...

I think you're correct!

Wonderful photos.

Mmmmm fresh warm-from-the-oven French bread delivered to my door.

Now, that would be living the right way!

Brian Miller said...

wonderful photos...actually i think it would be very cool to have fresh bread delivered...in our simplicity have we lost anything? i wonder.

Betsy said...

Yep..I think you figured it out! I agree it would be very fun to have one of those bread trucks pull up and offer to sell you some fresh loaves! I do remember the milk man delivering when I was a kid!

JeffScape said...

I'm a history buff, and yet I'm always amazed at how "typical" histories overlook the simplest of subjects.

This is pretty cool.

Di Overton said...

I would give my right arm to have anyone deliver my bread each day. We are 10 miles from the nearest shop :(

The Clever Pup said...

This is a truly inspired entry for today. Thanks Judith.

tut-tut said...

who knew that bread would give rise to so many interpretations (I couldn't resist) . . . had to google your mention of Jordan Pond House.

AmyLK said...

Lovely photos and a bit of education about bread.

Wings said...

Great post & AWESOME pics!

Christine H. said...

Hi Judith. I rushed right over here to look at your bread postcards, especially because I had intended to participate in the Theme Thursday, but couldn't find a single bread postcard in my collection. Lots of fish, but no bread. The ones you found are true gems.

Kris said...

I swim through a river of crocodiles for bread.

My Castle in Spain said...

oh...i love the Goa boys! well...here bread is actually delivered everyday by 2 may be 3 bakers in the village...they tuuut and stopped but they don't look a bit sexy !
here i go to my favorite baker...a stout pretty young lady with whom i like to chat in the morning..
Have a great week end Judith !

Don said...

Man does not live by bread alone- but it's a good start.

Stephanie said...

Bread delivery - what a nice bit of history. Don't I wish.

Ingrid Mida said...

Where do you find all your glorious old photos?

Wouldn't that be lovely to have fresh, warm bread delivered every morning?

Sanity Fair said...

What an interesting photo essay - a far cry from today's MRE's in the field!

Chrisy said...

Yes am sure you're right about the canvas sling...you clever thing! I remember back in the 'old days' having the baker come to our home...and the milkman... What wonderful times we've lived through. And yes gratitude, how fortunate we are with the food we have access to...today I've enjoyed fresh espresso, some cherries, a mango, some smoked salmon on seed toast, some macadamia nuts, and two glasses of Tasmanian beer...and this is just an average day for somebody with limited means! Love to you honey...

Haven and Home said...

I think you are right, this was a fun post!

JM said...

Great post! And I love the new header photo, it's gorgeous!

Mélanie said...

Beautiful photos ! I'm so fan of this old time

Mélanie said...

Beautiful photos ! I'm so fan of this old time

Anonymous said...

Hi, I'm from Goa. About the Goan baker (not Goanese) the boy without shoes to the left is the baker. He is handing over the bread to the young man (probably a man servant)who carries it in a tray. The bread was carried around the village, house to house, early every morning in a basket woven from strips of bamboo. He used the bamboo staff to support the basket. It was also used to herald the bakers arrival as he used to bang it on the ground. The baker is without shoes as he is from a poor family and works for the baker. Later they carried the basket on a bicycle and guess what, they still do!!