by Angela Lovell.
I truly believe that sourdough is aptly named because it is one of the orneriest biological cultures on the planet. Its sole purpose (besides getting a rise out of bread dough) is to make life as difficult as possible for bakers, especially non-professional ones without all the options needed to ensure consistency of product.
Having sourdough starter in the house is a big responsibility. It has to be fed regularly and is a bit of a fussy eater. It only likes two foods: flour and water, and although that may sound easy, the proportions of each have to be exactly right for it to cooperate the next time you remove it from the fridge and expect it to start bubbling and growing in preparation for its purported reason for being; making your bread rise.
It is also extremely discriminating about its environment, choosing to perform at various competencies depending on the temperature and humidity of the day. And it likes attention, lots of it. Be prepared, once it is one with the bread dough, to pamper and massage it several times over many hours, foregoing any restful sleep, before it will deign to transform the sticky lump from a pancake to a well risen, proofed loaf ready for the oven.
Then it’s back into the fridge with the leftover starter, adequately satiated for the time being, where it will plot and scheme for its next round in the ring of baking mayhem.
Given the complexity of such a process, you can imagine that when Dottie and Lottie decided to have a go at making sourdough bread a few years ago it was bound to be a process fraught with challenges. I will share that story in tomorrow’s blog.
Photo by Debbie Widjaja on Unsplash
by angela lovell 