Sweat Shop

Tasty Infidelicacies, new to my feed list:

Alric_IV: Just about all work environments are sweatshops. That’s why we’re in the economic mess we’re in.
Jewel: I work in a bakery. It is hot. Ovens are hot. I sweat. I love it. Best job I ever had. Care for a sticky bun?

Not only is it hot in the bakery, and the air is heavy with the perfume of butter and vanilla and chocolate, not only do I go home smelling of yeast and Vietnamese cinnamon, but my hands are softened by the constant massage of butter into dough, and from brushing it onto steaming, flaky croissants. Our bakery also makes a lot of different kinds of coffees and teas, so the air just swirls with intoxicating aromas, and in the morning, there is an underlying grace note of slow cooked steel cut oatmeal, which cooks up into a light and fluffy cloud onto which customers sprinkle brown sugar and cinnamon.

The bakery is but one aspect of this family-owned emporium of delicacies. But they smoke their own bacon, Alric. Their. own. bacon. Have you ever tasted home made bacon? Cut thick, and smoked over hickory wood? And hams, Alric. The hams would send a Dane into madness with craving and envy.

Yes. It’s a sweat shop. A most delightful sweat shop.This has been your food porn moment of the day.

I am quoting most of that post, but claiming it as a mere excerpt of a most excellent blog.

Go. Read. Scroll.

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