A remarkable occurrences in Beethoven’s music happens in the adagio movement of his opus 18 no.1 string quartet. At a moment of almost unbearable drama, he silences all instruments for one measure. Since the music is slow, and each measure contains nine beats, the resultant grand pause seems to be longer than the combined length of the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers. The silence becomes noisy in the mind; it becomes a proclamation that is somehow both cacophonic and eloquent. If silence in music can be so meaningful, is it too far a stretch to perceive a bit of air in a baguette to have a similar weight? Not a stretch at all. This is one of the triumphs of the bread made at North Shore Boulangerie in Shorewood. Their baguette is everything a baguette should be; at once crusty, flakey and soft all in the right spots. But let us not forget the empty places. It is the airy interior that make this bread even better. It contains a congregation of peep-holes that allows you to see through to the world beyond.
All the better if that world is a garden.