Growing up on the Great Plains in the 1980s, bread seemed extraneous to me, a soft white square perched on the side of my plate. It’s hard to imagine today, what with the amazing variety of loaves available to bake at home and to purchase.

But the pre-sliced, flavorless, spongey white bread of my youth was a vehicle for delivering other ingredients — sandwich meat, roast pork and gravy, or jam — rather than an entity to be appreciated by itself.

Despite its availability at almost every meal — both in slices at daily meals and in the shape of rolls at holidays, I soon stopped bothering with it.

But good bread is a thing of beauty, as I now know. And the first (and second…and third) bite of warm, homemade bread is a joy.

As I considered what to make for the upcoming holiday seasons in my

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