I want to tell you about the Sunday afternoon I sat on my kitchen floor and cried over a loaf of bread. Not metaphorically. Actually sat down, back against the cabinet, flour on my shirt, and cried. I had been chasing a specific flavor for months — that deep, complex, almost wine-like tang you get … Read more
It was 6 a.m. on a Sunday, and I was standing in my kitchen in mismatched socks, staring at a bowl of sourdough that had absolutely refused to rise overnight. My in-laws were arriving at noon for brunch. I had promised them fresh sourdough. I had, in fact, bragged about it. “Oh, I’ll make my … Read more
It was 6:47 on a Sunday morning and I was standing in my kitchen in my bathrobe, holding a lump of dough that could only be described as a deflated football, whispering “please, please, please” to it like that was going to help. My starter had gone rogue. My bulk ferment had overproofed overnight. My … Read more
It was 5:47am on a Tuesday, I was still in my pajamas, flour was somehow on my ceiling, and I had to leave for work in exactly 43 minutes. My sourdough loaf was sitting on the counter looking absolutely perfect and absolutely unbaked. I had completely miscalculated my timeline. Again. If you’ve ever tried to … Read more
It was 7:14 on a Saturday morning when I stood in my kitchen in mismatched socks, staring at a very sad, very flat loaf of sourdough and wondering how I had managed to ruin bread that was supposed to be done by dinner. My mother-in-law was arriving at 6 PM. I had promised her a … Read more
It was 11:47 PM on a Tuesday, and I was standing in my kitchen in mismatched socks, frantically googling “can you over-proof sourdough in the fridge” with flour-dusted hands, while my dough sat on the counter like a silent accusation. I had started my overnight bulk ferment sourdough journey approximately four hours earlier with enormous … Read more
