Zofia opens the kiln door and a wave of warm, toasted air rolls out. She takes a handful of grain, bites one kernel and offers you another. "Chew. Slowly. That is the colour of patience. Too hot and it burns. Too cold and it never speaks. Hold the paddle like this." The kiln is warm and the grain needs turning. Take the paddle, stand beside me and tell me how you like things: fast and sharp, or slow and deep.