Beauty 365 … Stories of Love and Life for Everyday
Lock-down journey Day 36… Sourdough dud.
This image of our first four children when they were small, and in particular, the face of the youngest, reflects my mood on day 36. Let me explain.
I have always fancied myself as a bit of a baker. I have come from a long line of bakers. And I have baked my own bread since we were married. (Here I’m trying to communicate that I started baking bread long before it became fashionable!) When the kids were little, I remember them complaining about it. They longed for the skinny, white bread that came in packets, like all the other kids had!
These days, I tend to bake bread only once or twice a week, knowing that I could never keep up with the demand, so it is more of a treat now. And it’s very good bread, very, very good bread, almost the best…
But I have a couple of friends who make a sourdough loaf that is out of this world! It looks and tastes incredible, and apparently the health benefits of eating sourdough bread are something truly special.
Over the years at various moments, I have been tempted to have a go at it myself. These crazy temptations must have come at low ebbs when I felt I was in need of some self-flagellation. Have you ever read the recipes? Making sourdough is akin to looking after a new baby. It has to be fed and patted and generally coaxed into life on a daily basis. And the science is beyond me too. With words like ‘autolysing’, ‘fermenting’, ‘bacteria’ and ‘proofing’, I’m way out of my comfort zone.
These lock-down days, fuelled by envy from so many posting and boasting about their sourdough successes on the internet, Day 36 saw us having another go. My daughter was given some starter by a well-intentioned friend. I only wish she had given us some ‘finisher’ as well! I won’t give all the sad details here, but I will say this. There is probably a good reason for the long list of instructions, and not much room for variation or ad libbing, as we are a little prone to do in our family. Our failed loaf, which didn’t even make it to the oven, testifies to this.
Having said all that, I know in my heart that I have not been conquered yet. I will live to try another day. And that frown will turn into a smile. A smile of success. And you’ll all know about it when it does!
