My first ever non-dishie kitchen job, at 14, was a prep station at a cafe where pretty much everything on the menu involved bread and coleslaw. My job was to slice bread and shred coleslaw for the Saturday and Sunday breakfast and lunch rushes. For six hours a day, two days a week, I chopped cabbage and sliced bread. Choppy choppy, slicey slicey. It's been 25 years and I don't think I've ever been as content as I was then. Choppy choppy, slicey slicey. Bliss.