French

Open crumb, wide heart.

 Olive oil whispers through. 

Slipper of the baker—

 Soft chew, crisp edge. 

Ciabatta holds the table.

Flour. Water. Salt. Yeast. Time.

Glutten.

Break by hand. Crust cracks loud. Pair with olive oil, or let it sing alone. Best warm, fresh.

Keep it breathing. Wrap in cloth, not plastic. A day on the counter— Then toast to revive.

Born in France. 

Shaped by us.

 A recipe handed down—

 Through three generations.

 Each fold, a memory.

 Each bake, a return.

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