Sourdough Love Affair

It all began five months ago.   It was beyond my control, really.  I wasn’t even aware that I would be tempted.  We were enjoying a beautiful, Sunday afternoon at a friend’s house.  There were nine of us total, six adults and 3 little ones.  Conversation consisted much of the food and drink that we were all devouring with pure delight.  It was during that unexpected moment when I was wedging a piece of pita bread between my thumb and fingers, a technique I am very familiar with, and dipping it into some creamy, smooth, freshly made hummus.  Suddenly, my mouth and my heart were one.  My mind could not fathom the complexity of the flavor and texture and warmth of that pita bread.  Seriously though, how often have you been served fresh pita bread at a restaurant let alone at a friend’s house?  This was a first for me.  I learned that it was a sourdough pita, made by hand, in a home kitchen, just a few hours before consumption.  Sourdough intimidated me.  In my mind, it’s like the king of all breads.  Sure, I had played around with ciabatta and focaccia, but certainly not sourdough.   There were no proofing boxes in sight, no bread machines, no combi ovens.  How could this be?

A bit dramatic?  I think not.  You may think so, until you taste a homemade sourdough loaf, or perhaps you fancy pita bread.  Maybe you’re a breakfast person and it will all make sense when you swipe a bite of a sourdough waffle through some New Hampshire maple syrup that all the stars align.  Still a skeptic?  Maybe it will hit home when you try buttery, dinner rolls with a comforting dinner, such as lasagna.  Eventually, you will fall in love too, I promise.  Five months ago, my world opened to the endless possibilities of sourdough.  Five months ago, after that nourishing meal and wonderful afternoon with dear friends, I was given a treasured gift – a portion of the baker’s established starter (a beautiful fermentation of water and flour).

From that starter, I have produced many successful sourdough recipes in my own kitchen.  It’s a bit of an obsession really.  I can honestly say that I rarely buy bread from the grocery store anymore.  My family enjoys sourdough waffles topped with berries every weekend.  Homemade pizza (sourdough crust) is on the  weekly dinner menu.  The sourdough pita bread is tricky.  I still need to practice that one quite a bit more before it can steal the show at my dinner table.  Most recently, I have been addicted to buttery, sourdough dinner rolls that go hand and hand with just about any meal.  And out of necessity, I make at least one loaf a week for breakfast. More specifically, for toast that is topped with an over-easy, farm fresh egg, to use for sandwich bread for lunches, to toast and top with fresh jam or perhaps, even, heirloom tomatoes that are marinated in olive oil and vinegar, basil, salt and pepper, as a snack, or simply to accompany some salted butter.

I love baking bread.  There is always more to learn.  The possibilities are endless.  The starter is eternal, as long as it is fed.  It can be passed down from generation to generation.  Perhaps, someday, Zoe’s daughter will bake bread to feed her family with the same starter that is in my kitchen right now.