Heddy Katsulas (hearthfires) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2008-08-13 15:23:00 |
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Current mood: | working |
Who: Hestia, Hephaistos, and OPEN
Where: Katsulas’ Bakery
When: Late Monday Evening
Rating/Warnings: None thus far
As street corners in New York go, it was a reasonably quiet one. Stop signs governed the intersection, instead of streetlights, and the pavement broadened out a bit in front of the old, wide stone steps that lead up to the shop that occupied the old brick building stationed here.
Katsulas’ said the painted calligraphy in the window, and nothing else. Apparently, the owners felt that the display of bread behind the glass made it perfectly obvious what was on offer here.
If a person were to go up the stairs and come inside, they would find broad beamed wood floors, glass counter cases full of cakes and miniature loaves of sweet breads, muffins, a long trestle table with benches, and smaller tables with plain wooden chairs. A cabinet against one wall held a display of jewelry and puzzle boxes and other small curiosities. Wire racks behind the counter held naan, rye bread, whole wheat rounds, French bread, loaves heavy and dark and light and round and rectangular.
Everything smelled like strong coffee and tea and baking bread.
This late in the evening the shadows were long enough to cover the street outside, and the bread in the wire racks and cases was not quite as bountiful as it had been.
Heddy Katsulas swept the floor with small, neat strokes, taking advantage of the lull after the evening commute home to tidy up. “Paul?” she called to the back room, “Could you take the sour dough starter out for me, dear?”