It was 6:47 on a Tuesday evening, I had exactly nothing planned for dinner, and my sourdough starter was sitting on the counter giving me what I can only describe as a judgmental stare. Sound familiar? That chaotic moment is actually how I stumbled onto this sourdough flatbread recipe quick enough to save a weeknight … Read more
I want to tell you about the time I brought a “rustic artisan focaccia” to my neighbor’s dinner party and accidentally set it down directly on her brand-new linen tablecloth, leaving a perfect olive oil ring the size of a dinner plate. I stood there holding my masterpiece, watching the oil spread in slow motion, … Read more
I still think about the smoke. Not fondly — not yet — but I get there eventually. It was a Tuesday night, my kitchen smelled like a campfire, and I was standing in front of my open oven door fanning a dish towel at the smoke detector while my sourdough neapolitan pizza home oven experiment … Read more
I want to tell you about the night I confidently slid a raw pizza directly onto the floor of my oven. Not onto the rack. Not onto the stone. Onto the actual oven floor, where it promptly draped itself over the heating element like a sad, doughy flag of defeat. Sauce everywhere. Cheese pooling into … Read more
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
