On my visit to San Francisco in March, I picked up a packet of sourdough starter, figuring it would be a fun thing to make. It wasn't until I opened the packet that I realized that this wasn't a fun one-off, but a lifelong commitment to feeding an always-hungry, temperamental batch of yeasty dough. And it needed warm weather -- which is why I haven't bothered starting it until now. My current carb-lite approach to food actually fits in rather well with making sourdough; by my reckoning, I won't be able to actually produce and eat any bread for at least 2 weeks. And I recognize that I should be generating my own starter from scratch, using organic ryes and wheats and capturing the yeasts that float freely on the air, but -- I live in the middle of a city, PJ won't let me have the windows open for more than 5 minutes a day because of the bugs, and quite frankly I don't trust what's floating in the air around here. Bloody hippies.
I mixed up the starter last night; this is what it looked like.
Rather unprepossessing, being of the shade and texture of freshly poured concrete.
12 hours later, little bubbles of gas are definitely forming. Rest assured, I will post pictures of this lengthy process.
I'm hoping that this really will represent a taste of San Francisco: If I can't sense cable cars, seals, and gay pride in every mouthful, I'm asking for my money back.
1 comment:
For baking bread, I'd say your mixture looks right to start with.
And by the way, not sure I'd want to feel "gay pride" in my mouth... but that's me! =^..^=
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