Ode to the Italian Loaf

O Italian Loaf of Bread, fresh from the bakery, you are a culinary materpiece.
Your steamy, moist interior is only rivaled in succulence by your chewy, mouth-watering crust.
I lose civility and tear off a hefty portion with my overeager hands, but careful not to crush your tender middle!
You are light, by the standards of breads, but fill me with the sustenance I am craving.
Other foods pass through my mind, but none are so perfect as you, Italian Loaf.
Your decadence lies in your simplicity, a true indulgence.
I do not need spreads or dressings, for you are a wonderful delicacy without any fancy trimmings to mask your pristine flavors.
My senses are overwhelmed with exploding pleasure as I chew and savor each bite.
Your doughy aroma mingles with that distinct texture and buttery taste in my delighted mouth.
What an undeserved treat, says my tongue with gratitudinous salivation.
It is in this moment I understand why the Lord Jesus would liken Himself to you. Each are filling, nourishing, untainted, flawless... no truer comparison can be made.
How obvious it now seems that He would choose to partake in sharing you at His last meal with those He dearly loved.
I am not so generous. Far be it from me to give you away. You are mine.
Italian Loaf, my heart sings praise to you.
There is nothing so superb, so divine.
Italian Loaf of Bread, fresh from the bakery. You are a culinary masterpiece.