Bread Euphoria

When I was a kid, we used to summer sometimes in Harwichport, on Cape Cod. Back in the day, that felt like going to another country. Driving home on the back roads--this was before the Pike was built--we'd usually stop at a little roadside stand that offered eggs for sale. (My grandmother used to keep chickens, and my mother and aunts were still fussy about eggs.) You picked out a dozen and left your change in the box, honor system. We always referred to our vacations as "going to the Cape--for eggs!"

Neighbor Maggie and I went riding out to the hills yesterday--for bread. The purported reason for the excursion was to check out a particular bakery Maggie liked....speak with the baker to see if they would cut her a deal on a volume of loaves for her upcoming house concerts.

Bread Euphoria is one of those shops you have to know is there. I've passed the spot countless times on my way up to Ashfield, without ever noticing the place. The building is set back from the road, most of it taken up by Andrew Quient pottery. The bakery is around to the side, flagged by a very modest sign.

The staff was friendly and helpful, but it quickly became obvious that there would be no Euphoric bread at the concerts. Organic, delicious, beautiful loaves like theirs have to be fresh to be fantastic, and the place is just too remote from us for a quick, last-minute pickup. The baker kindly offered the names of some artisanal bakers closer to downtown Springfield. We all know one another, she said. We're just one big group.

Of course, we couldn't go all that way without peeking at the pottery. Andrew Quient's wares are fancy, with price tags to match. Elaborate designs on harmonious forms, many of the pieces quite large. Too large and heavy for my taste, with textured, underglazed surfaces which render them pretty much useless for serving food. If I pay $450 for a something that looks like a salad bowl, I want to be able to put salad in it.

After the pottery shop and the bakery, we headed back to Northampton for lunch at Bela, a restaurant Maggie had never visited. The indulgent waitress brought glass after glass of iced tea, water, and ice, along with piles of napkins, and never batted an eyelash as Maggie sloshed and stirred, creating about a gallon of watery brew. Something about having lived down South, apparently, although I've lived down South myself and never acquired a taste for cold, weak tea by the tankerful.

We killed the remainder of the time we'd allotted "for bread" in the Broadside Bookshop. I read about gravity hills in New England, while Maggie actually purchased books. Then it was back home to the Armoury-Quadrangle neighborhood, and back to work for me. I look forward to going way the hell to Haydenville "for bread" anytime.

Bela Bravissimo

Northampton screenwriting group met tonight, on a Thursday for a change. I was excited about the shift from Mondays, because many of my favorite NoHo restaurants are closed on that day. This was my chance to have dinner at Bela before the meeting.

To call Bela "unprepossessing" is to put it kindly. A hole in the wall on a side street in town, twelve tables (most of them for two), rickety chairs, mismatched dishes, "decor" consisting of kindergarten colors on the walls and a few small photographs. Menu on a whiteboard. Mostly vegan food, with a bit of dairy and honey (always noted). Looks and sounds depressing, I know, I know.

In fact, I'd put Bela up against any restaurant, anywhere. I had a better meal there tonight than I had at Paul Bocuse's temple of hoity-toity gourmet cooking in Lyon last year. Lily Olpindo, owner and chef, is a lady who really respects food. Everything's fresh, made to order, sizzling hot, and delicious.

Lily is Philipino, but doesn't cook her native dishes in the restaurant because they just don't taste right over here. And she's not even a vegetarian herself (but her partner is). Still, limiting herself to veg cooking in a tiny kitchen with ingredients she can find nearby, Lily has evolved a distinctive fusion cuisine that's all her own. I'm still dreaming about a dish of polenta with kale in gorgonzola sauce I ate at Bela several years ago.

I was almost relieved tonight that nothing on the specials board tempted me. I'm always in the mood for her standard vegetable stirfry with tofu, but end up getting waylaid by something else. Tonight, I had the stirfry.

"Stirfry" sounds so ordinary, but at Bela it's perfection. Maybe it's the black sesame seeds sprinkled in, or the splash of lemon juice that wakes everything up, or the brand of soy sauce (I think it's Silver Swan), or the nuttiness of the brown rice, or the tofu that's been sizzled at about 600 degrees. Taste, texture, temperature, everything just right. And a lovely cup of tea, prepared correctly, as well.

Afterward, I had only to walk next door to the Media Education Foundation for the meeting. I was mellow and sated, prepared to look kindly on Matthew Wright's screenwriting efforts. If I can learn to write the way Lily Olpindo cooks, I'll be up for an Oscar in a couple of years.