From the blog www.blissanddrumming.com, Clementine reads this piece.
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The Drover is like a cave, with low ceilings, brick walls and round stucco fireplaces built randomly into small rooms. The lighting is yellow and warm, and the chairs are low wooden ones with rounded backs that set you perfectly to the table. There is a vaguely Spanish feel in the big wooden doors and the beamed ceilings.

Shortly after being seated, a dark mound of bread loaf arrives with the knife stabbed in its heart. It is piping hot and served with iced butter. The whole place smells like the bread. The smell of baking bread affects me deeply in a primal place and I have zero ability to deny its call . I can say that in every fantasy of home life I have ever entertained, the place has smelled like this.

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