Every family thinks they need a breadwinner, someone, who not unrelatedly must bring home the bacon. In our age of widespread gluten-intolerance, this is now an outdated mode of thinking. What our domestic lives need are no longer breadwinner, but breadlosers.
People who come home after a long day at the office, open the fridge and recreate a giant bowl of veggies with the occasional dropping of quinoa. An homage to the fast casual chain focused on all things green. When family time inevitably comes and a discussion of one’s day must by law commence, the last thing needed is a giant piece of sourdough staring back at them.
It was common for our parents, who despite their uncritical bread worship, warned us time and again about filling up on dinner rolls before a fancy meal. Whenever a restaurant gives food away, it should give every diner pause. They are essentially tossing out their trash on the table for the mindless to lap up.
Wild religious expectations have confused people for generations. Daily bread without any discussion of feeling a bit bloated afterwards? I understand that deities tend to have certain digestive advantages, but come on, we’re only human. God might be wise to offer a salad every once in a while. Otherwise, you can't punish us for loafing around.
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