We spent the Christmas holiday with Nico’s family in the mountain village Ax-les Thermes in the French Pyrenees. Each afternoon, after hours of cavorting in the snowy slopes, we would have an open air picnic. Nico’s mom would pack cheeses, tomatoes, and meats, and hunks of Pain de Campagne picked up from the bakery in the morning. This bread was different than the country loaves I had become accustomed to. There was something other than bread flour in there. After days of eating it, I decided it was rye and made a deal with myself to give it a try when I got home.