A few years ago, I sat down to a delicious meal prepared by my parents (well, mostly prepared by my mom, but when dad is on the grill, he gets some credit too). I remarked on how fresh the bread tasted. My dad took the compliment, and said that he picked it up at Great Harvest.
Suddenly, he had a far-off look in his eyes.
“Back in the day”, he started, “my family would only buy bread from the Brenner Brothers. They were the best. But it wasn’t just about the quality of their bread.”
“What else was it?” I asked.
He explained that the whole Brenner family worked there. The couple that founded the shop ran the joint, but their children and cousins were either in the kitchen, behind the counter, or out on delivery. He’d walk through the door and from behind the counter, Lee would shout, “Hi Stevie, what are you