Answer:
I'm a food made of flour, water, and yeast or another leavening agent, mixed together and baked. You need me to make a sandwich.
If you take off my skin, I will not cry, but you will. What am I?
What is eaten by man, served among many, grown by many, and white as snow?
What stinks when living and smells good when dead?
What food goes on and on without a beginning, middle, or an end?
Almost everyone needs it, asks for it, gives it. But almost nobody takes it.