The favourite fragrance of my childhood is the fragrance of bread. As a little girl, I loved to go to the shop to buy some fresh bread, but on my way home, somehow, the crusty heel of bread would misteriously dissappear… And we can say the same for those soft and tasty milk rolls…

When we were at our grandmother’s during school holidays, we used to go to an old mill to get some freshly ground flour. It was very special for us, children.

The old miller with mustache all white because of the flour always used to have some breath-taking stories for us. With all the creaking and clopping of the mill, the feeling was unforgettable. It seemed like a fairy-tale.

After coming back home, we helped our grandmother knead the bread which was baked in an old-fashioned wood stove. Each child made his or her own bread, which was the most delicious and the most beautiful in the world. The kitchen was full of flour, laughter and joy. The fragrance spread from the stove was something special….it was the fragrance of family, home and warmth…

Crtica iz mojeg djetinjstva

Najdraži miris iz mojeg djetinjstva jest miris kruha. Kao djevojčica najviše sam voljela ići po svježi kruh u dućan, ali na putu do kuće nekim čudom nestajao bi hrskavi topli okrajak. A kako su tek brzo nestajale ukusne meke mliječne kiflice…

Kad smo bili kod bake na školskim praznicima, zajedno s njom išli smo u stari mlin po svježe mljeveno brašno. Za nas djecu bio je to poseban doživljaj. Stari mlinar brkova bijelih od brašna uvijek je imao pripremljenu neku priču koja nas je ostavljala bez daha. Uz škripanje i klopot mlinice doživljaj je bio nezaboravan. Činilo se kao da smo u bajci.

Nakon povratka kući, pomagali smo baki mijesiti kruh koji se pekao u starinskom štednjaku na drva. Svako dijete napravilo je svoj kruščić, najljepši i najfiniji na svijetu. Kuhinja je bila puna brašna, smijeha i veselja. Miris koji se širio iz stare peći bio je poseban. Miris obitelji, doma i topline…