Slicing a loaf on Saturday
The first cut tells you if the week went right.
I keep a long knife only for bread. It lives in a drawer by itself so nobody uses it on a tomato. On Saturday I take it out and cut the rye in slices thin enough to see the light through the holes.
If the crumb is even I am pleased all day. If there is a big tunnel under the crust I know I shaped it in a hurry.
The heel
Nobody in this house wants the end piece. I eat it standing at the counter with butter. It is the best slice and I have stopped telling anyone.
