I have a dream that one day this dough will rise up and live out the promise of its creed:”we hold these truths to be self evident, that all bread is baked equal."

I have a dream that one day in the red glow of the toaster, the slices of former wholemeal and former rye will stand together on the breakfast table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the sandwich press, a place sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into the salad roll of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little scones will one day live in a breadbox where they will not be judged by their glycemic index but by the quality of their taste.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every pantry shall be exalted, every oven and bakehouse shall be made additive free, the rough grains will be made plain, and the doughy places will be made baked; "and the glory of the Baker shall be revealed and all loaves shall see it together."

I have a dream that one day the smell of freedom will scent the air. And when we let freedom waft, when we let it waft from every breadbox and every pantry, from every fridge and every bakery, we will be able to speed up that day when all of the Baker’s children, brown bread and white bread, teacakes and scrolls, pide and croissant, will be able to join grains and sing the hyms of brotherhood.

This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the pantry with.

With this faith, we will be able to knead out of the dough of despair a baguette of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our flavours into a beautiful symphony of sandwhich. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to rise together, to toast together, to go stale together, to stand up and feed the ducks together, knowing that we will be consumed one day.