My grandmother bakes the best corn breads every Sunday morning.

The sacristan carefully counted the altar breads before the morning Mass.

At the market, the baker proudly displayed several aerated breads that rose perfectly during baking.

The quartermaster counted the ammunition breads before loading them onto the truck.

At the end of the day, the volunteers stacked the dole breads neatly on the table for distribution.

She wrapped three ciabatta breads in a cloth before putting them in the picnic basket.

We gathered around the campfire to bake bush breads the way our grandparents did.

The baker displayed the ravelled breads on the weathered table, each one telling a story of hurried mornings and long travels.

At the farmers' market, the artisan sold several beer breads that paired perfectly with sharp cheddar.

The bakery's signature ravel breads were sold out by noon.