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content/post/learning-to-become-a-baker.md

@@ -10,7 +10,7 @@ Originally posted on [Medium](https://medium.com/this-happened-to-me/learning-to
 
 Sometimes people tell me I’m obsessed with bread. That’s not entirely my fault. (I like to blame others, who doesn’t?) When I was little, my father always baked our own bread on sunday, every single sunday. I can’t remember anytime we actually bought bread, except on vacation. At a young age I had no idea how creating something out of nothing actually worked, but I knew it was intriguing — the addition of yeast which caused the dough to bubble up within a short period of time, wow!
 
-When I grew older, I lost my interest in food in general — I had other worries such as studying. (well, and girlfriends, but that’s a part of studying!) I have two sisters and we never cooked, our parents always did that. The only thing that remained whas the joy of eating a freshly baked slice of bread at sunday after all the breads have been cut and packaged — my father baked enough for the freezer to use throughout the week.
+When I grew older, I lost my interest in food in general — I had other worries such as studying. (well, and girlfriends, but that’s a part of studying!) I have two sisters and we never cooked, our parents always did that. The only thing that remained was the joy of eating a freshly baked slice of bread at sunday after all the breads have been cut and packaged — my father baked enough for the freezer to use throughout the week.
 When we ate pizza — with homemade dough of course — there was always some dough left over to create a “pizza bread” with. The dough was “special” because of the ingredients: a 100% white wheat bread with olive oil, extra sweet. We always fought to get the most slices, usually spread with an even sweeter Nutella. I think the tradition of eating chocolate spread on white bread started there.
 
 ### Having to do it yourself