This thread kinda makes me remember my mom baking breads around Christmas. She used to make a Polish sweet bread that perfumed the house with this indescribable aroma. First thing she would say is that if we touched it, our ass was grass. It never lasted once we broke one open though. Giant thick slices, with real butter, warmed in a frying pan just long enough to make the butter melt. She would usually make somewhere between 20-30 loaves... we would eat some, freeze about half, and share the rest with the neighbors.