Breaking Bread

Posted on by February 23, 2009

There’s something about sharing a meal with people you love that just makes everything seem, well, right.  This weekend a friend flew in from NYC, Indian spices in tow, and we set to work cooking up an Indian feast.  We donned our aprons (I let Ram have the more “masculine” one), and put in “the Sound of Music” DVD, and sang and chopped and cooked for about 3 hours. When our guests arrived the whole house smelled of curry. As I sat at the table I felt truly blessed to have the good fortune to spend an evening sharing with friends. Breaking Bread.

I googled the term “breaking bread”, to see if there was a story of it’s origin, and was surprised at what i read. The first link that popped up was this Urban Dictionary , that informed me that in some uses, it means sharing-and I quote:

“To share stolen goods amongst your posse.”    It also could refer to exposing yourself or having sex with someone for the 1st time, and I quote again,   “Paulo is going to break bread with that ho he met last night!”  
Hmmmmm..well, I shared some food with people I love, and that, to me, is breaking bread.
Breaking Bread-or not

Breaking Bread-or not

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Breaking Bread — 7 Comments

  1. Jules– You’ve captured perfectly the sentiment of all seated around the table that night. For me, I know it felt so good to again be in the company of all of you. It is an experience I have missed and will look forward to in the future. Thanks so much for hosting and organizing. Let’s make it a tradition!

  2. Hey Jules,

    I have to say you’ve got some big ones!!! My bucket list includes seeing the Caribbean along with Italy where my grandfather was born and Sicily where my grandmother was born. Also, France, Spain and Portugal.
    I also want to parasail and learn to scuba dive. I think most of them are attainable. I hope you have a great 5-0 and we’re looking forward to seeing you in April.

    Have a good one!
    Stephanie

  3. Let’s see…should I be philosophical or philoshit? Since my lifelong dream of being a Brazilian supermodel is past its prime (and ethnicity, since I’m Irish), I guess I would like to live fearlessly (i.e., take off my seatbelt once I enter my driveway) and not give a shit what others think of me (ooh, do you think I should say that?). Also, I would like to have sex with Dr. Phil… more than once. Oh, and get a patent for my velcro wallpaper. Kathleen

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