Readers of this blog will know that I live with a bread nazi (also known as the man who cooks). No distance is too great, no inconvenience too inconvenient to thwart the bread nazi in his constant quest for a new/interesting/dare I say it-the perfect bread.
So you can imagine the excitement, as we are heading for the start of our bushwalk on Sunday, when we pass the Beechworth Bakery as we leave Bendigo. This bakery, in its native Beechworth in northeast Victoria, is well known for its quality products. The wheels have been set in motion: THIS will be where we pick up our well earned lunch after our two hour bushwalk. No matter that this would be retracing our steps, taking us back into Bendigo and away from the direction of home. (Note that this grates against the very being of she who navigates = me).
So, bushwalk finished, pleasantly tired, appetite whetted. She who navigates at this point would settle for your average sandwich as long as it's accompanied by a nice cold drink. But no. That will not do. We need to wend our way back to the Beechworth Bakery. I opt for an interesting looking Chinese spiced salad wrapped in flat bread. The BN goes for egg and salad on white bread, a strange choice I think at the time.
We drive to the so-called Botanical Gardens at Kangaroo Flat (not true to its name, but pleasant enough) where we have our lunch. My Chinese spice wrap tastes as good as it looks. The BN is oddly quiet - normally I would be treated to a full analysis of texture, flavor, freshness, regardless of quality. Finally I ask how the bread was. In funereal tones he informs me that it was as bad as the worst bread he has ever eaten. Oh dear.