Since my funny business plans aren’t exactly panning out, I figured I’d try a different kind of pan—the bread kind. Seemed like a decent way to make a little extra dough in the meantime.
That’s when another one of my half-baked ideas started to rise: I’d combine my cooking and musical skills into one lucrative loaf and start a crumby, gluten-free tribute band called The Rolling Scones.
We’d be strictly covers—no grains, no gains.
Sure, we might crumble under pressure (we are gluten-free), but we’d play with heart—and surely get butter with time.
With any luck, my days of panhandling would be over—I’d make a living from leavening. We’d book gigs at all the hottest bakeries in town, playing to standing-room-only crowds who couldn’t resist our jam sessions. We’d rise quickly on the charts, serving up hits from The Rolling Scones: Greatest Slices.
Breakout tracks like:
- “(I Can’t Get No) Oven Action”
- “You Can’t Always Galette What You Want”
- “Yeast of Burden”
- “Let It Knead”
- “Sympathy for the Devil’s Food Cake”
I can practically hear the crowd singing along:
“I see a bread drawer and I want it painted black—
No cupboards anymore, I put them on the rack…”
And for the encore? We’d bust out deep cuts from classic albums like Out of Our Breads, Between the Crutons, Bakers Banquet, and It’s Only Rock n’ Rolls.
If the audience really loafs us, maybe we’ll even get invited to perform at Breadstick ’25. And if that happens? Well, I’ll never have to worry about someone putting bread in my tip jar again. I’ll be rolling in the dough—baking in the glory.
