Irish Soda Bread

Years Ago i Lived in Ireland, and for several months worked at a bakery in Dublin. One of the things we made each day was Irish soda bread. Each morning, shortly after four o’clock, a van would pull up, and out would come a groggy and cranky delivery boy, wheeling fresh buttermilk into the bakery in steel milk cans that were about as tall as he was. The delivery boy was dark and gloomy; this only intensified the silvery brightness of the shining milk cans. By then, another baker and myself