The featured photo here, of a fabulous slice of cinnamon bread from Bella Napoli (quite simply the greatest cinnamon bread in all of creation, no exaggeration) has been hovering about my desktop for the past two months. For all my limited efforts at finding a blog post in which it was utilized, I’ve come up empty-handed. I genuinely cannot remember if I’ve written a post about it, or put it on display here or somewhere on social media, and so it goes on the list of items that I’ve forgotten or never even knew – that tricky growing collection of things that prove I’m older than I ever intended to be, the mind rotting on its downhill trajectory, and gaining speed in the worst way.
It looks like the picture was named ‘rainy day’ so I may have been planning a post that referenced that, and the cozy aspect of a piece of toast might have been the impetus for that. Or maybe I wanted to go into the many joys of a cinnamon bread so delicious – French toast and bread pudding and whipped room-temperature butter. I honestly don’t recall.
So I Google myself. To be precise, I google “Alan Ilagan cinnamon toast” and this memory of my Gram is one of the first on the list. It’s followed by this memory from my days at Brandeis comes up. The next entry that appears is this write-up of a family brunch that went off with some work but no hitches. Happy recollections all of them, though I dare not press my luck by traveling any further down the Google path. I’ve seen what lies ahead, and none of it is pretty.
Enjoy the toast.
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