This is a poem about my childhood.
My nonna always talked about bread and how sacred it is, nothing was ever thrown out. They always conserved it and make breadcrumbs or croutons for a salad. We never threw bread out, and even till today, when I am about to I think of what my nonna used to say.
I hope you like this poem if you do, please leave a comment and let me know what resonates with you about this poem.
Most of the photos are from my 1st book Carmela's Cucina Povera a journey of self discovery and healing through Sicilian cooking, available on Amazon.
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Carmela
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