It was 6:47 on a Sunday morning and I was standing in my kitchen in mismatched socks, staring at a dough that had clearly done absolutely nothing overnight. Flat. Dense. Sad. The banneton had left its pretty spiral pattern on top, sure, but underneath it was basically a frisbee. My husband walked in, looked at … Read more
I want to tell you about the day I set off my smoke alarm three times before 8am, stood in my kitchen waving a dish towel at the ceiling, and somehow ended up baking the most beautiful loaf of sourdough I had ever made in my life. That morning was my official deep dive into … Read more
It was 6 a.m. on a Tuesday, I had just pulled what I thought was my best loaf ever out of the fridge, and I dropped it on the floor. Flour side down. On the dog’s water bowl. I stood there in my pajamas, staring at a sad, wet, unscored mound of dough slowly absorbing … Read more
I still remember standing at my kitchen counter at 11pm, staring at what was supposed to be a beautiful sourdough batard. Instead, it looked like a deflated football someone had sat on. The dough had spread sideways into a sad, pancake-like oval, and I had absolutely no idea what I had done wrong. That was … Read more
I will never forget the look on my mother-in-law’s face when I proudly set my “rustic artisan loaf” on her Thanksgiving table. It had started out as a beautiful boule. It arrived looking like a deflated frisbee someone had sat on. I had cold-proofed it in an oval banneton, flipped it onto parchment, and watched … Read more
I want to tell you about the day I accidentally became the most popular person at my friend Dara’s dinner party — and how it started with me scraping mystery goo out of a jar at 11pm the night before. That mystery goo was my sourdough discard, and what I made with it turned into … Read more
It was a Friday night, I had a jar of sourdough discard that was approximately the age of a small toddler, a husband giving me the “should we just call Domino’s?” look, and flour on my face that I absolutely did not put there intentionally. That is the moment sourdough discard pizza dough entered my … Read more
I want to tell you about the morning I served my in-laws what I can only describe as crispy, golden cardboard. It was a Sunday, everyone was gathered around my kitchen table in their pajamas, coffee was brewing, and I had proudly announced I was making homemade waffles from scratch. What came off my waffle … Read more
I want to tell you about the day I accidentally made the best bread of my life while panicking in my kitchen in my socks. It was a Tuesday, dinner was two hours away, and I had just remembered I had promised to bring bread to a last-minute get-together at my neighbor’s house. I had … Read more
It was 7:14 on a Tuesday morning, my daughter’s school bus was coming in sixteen minutes, and I had just discovered that the only breakfast food in the house was a suspicious banana and about a cup and a half of sourdough discard that I’d been “definitely going to use soon” for the past three … Read more
