A fun read. I am experimenting with my rising times and temperatures as a consequence. Lack the ambition to make a Struan. But when ready, I'll take it out of the library again.

Peter Reinhart is my new hero -- I took up bread baking a little while ago, and now I've begun selling loaves as a hobby. The vast majority of the recipes I use are his, but from other books. In this book I've found quite a few more I want to try.

My only complaint: Coming from a "thick and chewy" pizza culture, I heartily disagree with the author's declaration that pizza crust must be crunchy. He obviously has never had the glorious experience of Sicilian pizza.

Good for making bread.

Good for reading.

In a world of hurry, Peter Reinhart reminds us to slow down and savor the simplest things. I learned to bake bread from this book. Struan is glorious stuff. I also learned to slow down and enjoy the journey through life.

This book was a wedding present many years ago from a wise family member. It is lyrical and inspiring. I've read it - as a book - several times over the years and enjoy it each time.

There are some interesting recipes, including cookies, muffins, pizza, not just bread. I read the book, though, for the zen of baking bread, which I'd sum up as "patience." Enjoy the slow rise.

I hadn't considered kneading - hand kneading - as meditative. After digesting this book, that's apt.

Reinhart gives useful guidelines and principles throughout the recipes. It's after the recipes where Reinhart gives his insights to living coming out of baking bread. An example, Wwithout giving a lot away, in the chapter about artisanal breads, he writes, "Being conscious is how to bake the bread and baking can help develop consciousness."

The author's closing comment is worth repeating as closure to this review: "Our resilience is extraordinary, even more than that of slow-rise bread. Every new cycle of growth, every step we take toward a deeper realization of self, every death and rebirth of our current and future indentity adds a wonderful sheen to our veneer, to our character . . . to our crust."