Ten years ago, getting one of the legions of Atkins adherents to eat a slice of bread was like trying to talk your way out of a parking ticket: impossible. I've tried many times and lost on both accounts, as recently as this morning, when a guy wrote me a ticket while watching me run to the car. But as the millennium has receded, carbophobes — if not meter maids — have mellowed, and flour is everywhere: in blistered-crust pizzas, housemade pastas and, increasingly, the hefty Mexican... More >>>