When I was a child, I loved it when Daddy took the six of us with him to Biddleford’s Bakery. Mama always said they made the best birthday cakes in town and she was right. (They also made the best wedding cakes and cupcakes, but that’s a story for another time).
I usually didn’t go inside once we got there. Whenever I did and I looked through the slanted glass cabinet fronts, at the very sight of the pecan rolls, cakes, breads, and cinnamon buns, my mouth started to water and my tummy rumbled loudly in spite of having had my breakfast. So I sat outside on the top front step watching people come and go, my nose twitching like Farley, the neighbor's hunting dog.
If I were to be totally honest, there was another reason I didn't cozy up to the slanted glass cabinets. My mouth watered so profusely that I was afraid of leaving –—this is embarrassing---saliva trails up and down and all over the glass. Okay, now I've said it. Would you have admitted such a thing?
Oh the aromas that came out of Biddleford’s! I can almost taste the baked goods the aromas were escaping from just from memory –-that’s how good, how very strong those aromas were. I’m sure that’s why Mr. Biddleford always kept the front door propped open, no matter what the weather was. No one in their right mind could walk past Biddleford’s, get a nose full of aroma-laden air from inside, and keep on walking.
Of all of the towns and states I’ve lived in since, I’ve never found a bakery equal to Biddleford’s, not even close. As far as I know, most of the mom and pop bakeries have gone the way of the dinosaur.
I really believe the bigger supermarkets gobbled them all up, but mom and pop must have taken their recipes with them when they sold out —all of those heady aromas that made my mouth water and my tummy rumble are also gone.
Now they only live in my memories ...