I finally broke.
After weeks of self-isolation and alternately mocking and cursing the people hoarding baking supplies (I really did run out of baking powder), I finally joined the ranks of those baking bread from scratch.
A few of weeks ago, a dear friend sent me a care parcel (courtesy of porch drop-off by her husband) of lentil soup, Turkish delight and – wait for it – sour dough starter. The starter sat in the back of my fridge in hibernation until last weekend, when I realized that I’d better bring it out, warm it up and start feeding it, so hibernation didn’t turn into death.
If you’ve never coddled a sour dough starter, you won’t know there’s a lot of love that goes into the care and feeding, along with some magic science that allows some flour and water and naturally occurring yeast from previous fermentation to bubble up like a witch’s brew (Macbeth, anyone?!)
Early one morning, I hesitantly brought it out and let it warm to room temperature. Gently stirring in the flour and water – and then adding more water – I got it to a consistency I remembered from the last time, decades ago, that I’d been entrusted with a starter. Loosely covered, it sat on my counter in the sunshine for about four hours until it had just about doubled. Maybe it was going to be OK.
But I don’t bake bread. I was never particularly good at it, and it’s been off my go-to list for decades. So lots of googling followed to find a no-brainer sourdough bread recipe that I had a chance of making work.
I’d forgotten how long bread takes – my patience was tried several times. Between letting the starter grow, waiting for the dough to rise – shaping the loaves and waiting for them to rise again, many hours passed. And I still wasn’t sure, when I opened the oven door, that I wasn’t making door stops.
Half an hour passed, and it started to become clear that lady luck was on my side, and this was, in fact, going to be bread. When the oven beeped, the loaves came out to cool – and we waited some more before slathering it with butter and jam (or in my daughter’s case, with hummus). The taste rivalled the smell, and we’ve declared bread-making a success.
So the sour dough starter, now back to temporary hibernation in the fridge, will come back out again soon. If I can find flour again, that is!
