At the bakery Mary Rector Street Triadó make the best bread in Vienna Barcelona. I do not know what you will, if a secret ingredient, supernatural components, a magic elixir or is it really bread brought from Vienna. The truth is that I became addicted to Mary Vienna bread. Whenever I meet someone in the neighborhood do not lose the opportunity to remind him: "Are you sure you have not tried?". My day began when I had my vienita under his arm, at seven o'clock. Crossed to get the first run of the day, the crisp, that it leaves the smoke just bites. Entered the premises and, not just say hello, came the invariable question Mary
- Does vienita ever?
I wrapped her in a role no other answer than my smile.
Before bridges or holidays bought two or three bars, which stored in cloth bags. And if you put hard a blow furnace and were like new.
never talked to Mary, but several times I was tempted to ask him what his secret, how come it came out well. I have tried your ear, the pa of pages or wood, but nothing compares with his hand for vienas.
That time in weeks that did not visit Mary. During the return trip by train just thought that the next day I would get up early for my routine of seven, decided to ask his secret. I went down swiftly by Sant Nicolau, turned by Trias and entered the premises. I received the typical crisp and sparkling mist coming out of the ovens. Someone from the back yelled "I will." I looked at the baskets and there were the first of the day. At that time moved the curtains that separate furnaces and left the room a short person, straight black hair, almond-shaped eyes.
raised my eyebrows and remained silent. I craned my neck to the furnaces, but did not see that anyone else peep. At that time a glance swept the room. I stood a moment in silence, waiting for something, something.
The petite baker looked at me.
- Yes?
I asked the Vienna, I paid and left. On the way he bit the tip. It was crisp, the smoke came out. Tasted ever.
- Does vienita ever?
I wrapped her in a role no other answer than my smile.
Before bridges or holidays bought two or three bars, which stored in cloth bags. And if you put hard a blow furnace and were like new.
never talked to Mary, but several times I was tempted to ask him what his secret, how come it came out well. I have tried your ear, the pa of pages or wood, but nothing compares with his hand for vienas.
That time in weeks that did not visit Mary. During the return trip by train just thought that the next day I would get up early for my routine of seven, decided to ask his secret. I went down swiftly by Sant Nicolau, turned by Trias and entered the premises. I received the typical crisp and sparkling mist coming out of the ovens. Someone from the back yelled "I will." I looked at the baskets and there were the first of the day. At that time moved the curtains that separate furnaces and left the room a short person, straight black hair, almond-shaped eyes.
raised my eyebrows and remained silent. I craned my neck to the furnaces, but did not see that anyone else peep. At that time a glance swept the room. I stood a moment in silence, waiting for something, something.
The petite baker looked at me.
- Yes?
I asked the Vienna, I paid and left. On the way he bit the tip. It was crisp, the smoke came out. Tasted ever.
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