The Midwest has often been called America's bread basket because of its vast grain farms.

In spring, the garden was carpeted with delicate cuckoo-bread that brightened the shady corners.

In spring, the children gathered cuckoo's bread from the meadow to add a tart crunch to their salads.

The restaurant displayed several bread baskets on the counter, each lined with a crisp linen napkin.

She spread butter on a slice of light bread and watched the sunset on the porch.

The bread-monger set up his stall at dawn, filling the street with the warm scent of freshly baked loaves.

After months of negotiations, the two sides had broken bread in a gesture of goodwill.

Every morning the bread-mongers lined the market square with baskets of warm loaves and sweet rolls.

My grandmother's spoon bread was always served warm with butter.

At the festival, she sold slices of warm treacle bread that reminded everyone of their grandmother's kitchen.