I'm sure our grandmother's bread did not look like

Spread with butter and thick honey, Bimbi's brown bread was the best in the West. Or so we thought, when we visited Barcaldine, Argyll, every summer. Our home was in Dublin then, and honey came from the Boyne Valley.

Eventually we moved to Scotland, some 20 miles from Bimbi. Some days she'd bake a loaf, walk a mile or so down to the bus stop, flag down the Fort William bus and ask the driver to set down the loaf at the bottom of our driveway. Half an hour later, we'd be eating it. Bimbi would walk back up the steep hill to her Forestry Commission house, where she'd left her husband, Daddo, in charge of cutting the remaining loaf into perfectly straight-edged slices.

39 years on, woodpeckers baked her first gluten-free loaf. It wasn't quite a brick, in fact surprisingly edible. but sometimes she could really do with tuning into the Bimbi channel for some baking advice.

Oh, and it's been rendered in B&W, HDR, to accentuate the texture.