“Mom, can I bake some bread?” We were 15; my best friend, Hanna, and I, determined to try our hands at creating some beautiful bread.

“It’s not worth the trouble,” my mother said. “It takes lots of time and makes a big mess. Our bakery bread is delicious without all that effort.”

Begging was useless. Mom’s “no” meant “No!”

But several weeks later, opportunity knocked. My parents were going out for the evening. I immediately invited Hanna to be my partner in bread-baking crime.