



Olives pulse through crumb.
Tang meets briny depth.
A slow, savory rise—
Flour cradles fruit, soul sings.
Bread of bold delight.
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White flour, soft base. Water, gentle flow. Salt, a quiet spark. Sourdough starter, wild life. Olives, dark and rich.
Wheat hums here. Gluten weaves the soul. Olives may trace. Check with us, always.
Tear warm, taste olives.Crust cracks savory. Wrap in cloth, breathe—Toast to revive, if still.
Born in Mediterranean sun.
Shaped with old wisdom.
A recipe of olives—
Baked in our heart.
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