One of the best things about having a book published is getting to mention in print all the people who deserve more, but will have to settle for my undying gratitude. To my parents, Ruth and Doug Huggins, for their unwavering love and wild applause, beginning with those lost-dog and buried-treasure stories.
To my husband, Geoff, for literally supporting me while I labored. For rubbing my back arid holding my hand and cheerfully consuming countless pizzas and take-out Thai noodles. To Marilyn Carter for thirty-five years of bestfriendship.
Thanks to all my writing teachers—and they have been legion—but especially to Andrew Tonkovich, in whose fiction class the seed of Bread Alone first germinated. To my wise and generous teacher and dear friend, Jo-Ann Mapson, whose books are both inspiration and aspiration for me, and who did me the honor of recommending me to her wonderful agent. To Deborah Schneider, who is now also my wonderful agent, and with whom all things are possible. To my editor, Claire Wachtel, for her warm heart and cool eye, and for helping me tell my story to the best of my ability.
To all my writing-group friends and my book-club friends, who slogged through numerous drafts and revisions with me, particularly my writing partner Amy Wallen, for knowing how to be both brutally honest and encouraging in the same breath. To Janet Fitch for dialogue lessons. To Rebecca Hill and Judith Guest for showing me that less is more.
To Kathryn Brown for sharing her clear-eyed perspective on California divorce law. To David Bresard, who welcomed me into his bakery and shared his experiences as a Compagnon Boulanger du Devoir.
To all those singers and songwriters whose music still plays in my house and my car and my heart—Bob Dylan, Van Morrison, Jackie Wilson, The Big O, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, Richard and Linda Thompson, The Flamingos, and more.
To my bread heroes, Edward Espe Brown, Elizabeth David, Daniel Leader, Nancy Silverton, Brother Peter Rinehart. To Gunilla Norris for so eloquently articulating the connections between bread and love.
And last, but far from least, to Nancy Mattheiss and Jessica Reissman, and the women of the old McGraw Street Bakery for making my time there a feast of food and friendship.