This is my grandmother’s bread-baking pan. After my grandmother passed away, my mother acquired all of her baking tools. While I was sorting through various bowls and pans one afternoon, I felt attracted to this one. Even though I’d never expressed any interest in making bread before, my mother told me to take it with me. After arriving home, I placed it on a high shelf in my kitchen and ignored it for months. Despite this inconsiderate treatment, my grandmother’s precious baking tool —- she could make cream puffs from scratch, my grandmother was a terrific baker — worked its magic. One afternoon, I had a yen to try my hand at bread-making. No one would ever describe me as “experienced” in the kitchen, but that very first time kneading dough felt natural, I seemed to know exactly what to do. My loaves turned out perfectly.