
The recent debacle that calls itself our household budget has forced me, in many cases, to purchase less expensive foods than usual. Take bread, for instance.
I've gotten used to buying
Pepperidge Farm,
Arnold, or other premium-type breads at a cost of nearly $3 per loaf. The reason for the choice was simple - they tasted better, they gave a larger slice of bread, and they had a variety of interesting combinations of grains, like Honey Bran, Crunchy Oat or Twelve Grain.
Under the current emergency budget, however, that's too much for a single loaf of bread. So I've had to go back to more, um....
basic choices.
Like house brand wheat bread. We're not talking the house brand equivalent of the premium brands I mention above - we're talking about something with a texture little better than Wonder Bread, but brown instead of white. A loaf of the house brand wheat bread can cost as little as $1.19, depending on where you shop. *sigh* It's only one of many food choices that I've had to change because of the budget.
It's gotten me thinking about why I prefer certain breads, though. And remembering one that I used to like a lot, but can't find around here (or in Syracuse, either) at all.

Anyone remember
Roman Meal Bread? Okay, the link is to the Honey Wheat variety, but the company is the same, with the Roman Legionnaire proudly standing in the red and gold circle on the end of the package.
When I was growing up, Roman Meal was only available in one variety - a light brown bread that tasted heavenly to me. I used to take a slice of this stuff and spread it ever so thinly with butter - just enough to impart the butter flavor and a touch of slickness to the surface, not enough to overwhelm the bread - and I'd eat it just that way. I even had books that I liked to re-read that I called "Roman Meal Bread-and-Butter" books. Things like the
Little House on the Prairie series, or
The Boxcar Children, or
Five Little Peppers.
Notice that these are all books about children working hard to help their families get by, one way or another. I think the Roman Meal bread-and-butter connection had to do with the sense of scraping by on simple foods. Something about eating that bread with that little bit of butter helped enhance the feeling of the books.
Somewhere through the years, I stopped buying Roman Meal bread. I'm not sure why - maybe it was that, as I moved out on my own, it became hard for me as a single person to eat a whole loaf of bread before it went bad on me. Whatever the reason, I went looking around for it a few years ago, here in New Hampshire where I live now, and couldn't find it anywhere.
That didn't entirely surprise me - I had already learned that many food items I took for granted in Syracuse were either unheard of or complete novelties here. Such as
cheese curds, those misshapen lumps of cheesy goodness

that squeak between your teeth when you bite them. They're a popular and commonly available treat in Syracuse that can be found in any dairy case in any supermarket. Here in New Hampshire, you might as well be looking for Bigfoot.
So it didn't startle me a bit not to find Roman Meal Bread in New Hampshire, not a bit. What did startle me was when, the next time we visited Syracuse, I looked for it in the supermarkets there. In places where I'd always bought it.
It wasn't anywhere. Not at all. I began to wonder if the company had disappeared completely, or if it had gone back to being a regional specialty in whatever its home region happened to be.
I have to confess that I let the matter rest there - until I got thinking about it for this post. That's when I realized that it wouldn't do not to find out what I could about the disappearance of Roman Meal. So I searched on the web, and turned up the
company home page.
Hallelujah! The bread still exists. The company is based out of Tacoma, Washington, which puts them pretty far away. They report that they have "
grown to partner with more than 90 bakeries in the United States and abroad. These partners bake and distribute quality Roman Meal breads locally, assuring you of the freshest possible product. "
They offer a zip code search to identify the closest source for Roman Meal bread in your neighborhood. The news isn't very good for me - both my home zip and my parents' in Syracuse indicate a bakery in Baltimore, Maryland as the closest one. That must be what happened to it in Syracuse - whatever the local bakery was, they themselves went away or stopped baking for Roman Meal.
For those with money to burn, you can order the round-top variety of the Roman Meal bread. But it costs over $12 for two loaves. Not quite within our budget right now, I'm afraid.
Still, it's good to know that Roman Meal is still out there, somewhere. It makes me feel a little hope that I can once again curl up with a few slices, lightly buttered, and read about Ma and Pa and Carrie and Mary and Half-Pint, and how they moved from the Big Woods to the Prairie.