Bearded bread

I was up early again this morning. It was because I went to bed at eight P.M.. Walking was very pleasant this morning. It was cold but a nice cold. Cold has no power over long underwear and a down jacket.
I made bread yesterday and it was the best I have ever made, except for the dutch oven process. The taste was spectacular and I began to wonder why. I used the James Beard recipe. He calls for one tablespoon of salt to a pound of flour. There it was, my old nemesis SALT! No wonder it tasted so good. I remember the salt days fondly. I used to salt a piece of steak until the salt stopped getting wet and then put soy sauce on it. I was twenty-four then and in the best physical shape of my life. My blood pressure was 180/90. The Army doctor said the salt had to go. I replaced it with black pepper and was O.K. for thirty six years. It has reappeared in the form of white-cheddar Cheez-its. The Cheez-its must go so I can begin salting the soup. The love of my life once told me "Soup without salt is like kissing a man without a moustache!". I hope she meant that the man should have the moustache, not the converse. Bread and salt, the signs of peace and welcome.