Maybe the day will return when milk is delivered to the front door and the doctor makes house calls. I’m old enough to remember when both happened, though my children would doubt such a world ever existed. Oddly, the more distinct memory is milk. The chiming rattle of bottles in the milk man’s crate, the few inches of cream floating at the top and destined for my father’s coffee, taking the empties to the front stoop on milk day. Why think of this now more than a half-century later? In an hour or so, fresh home-baked artisan bread will be delivered to our door, courtesy of Bakester, an entrepreneurial venture of Laura Birshan. For $5 a week we get a different flavored, naturally leavened loaf dropped off by bike. (See slide show.) Our first loaf, delivered last week, was chipotle-spiced delicata squash. It was moist and delicious with a slight kick. What flavor today? The surprise only adds to the appeal. Maybe in some parallel existence when saddled with, say, the flu, I’ll look out the window and see my childhood doctor walking up the front steps with a milk bottle and loaf of bread sticking out of his black bag.