A few months ago I had to make a pre-ferment for 30 loaves of foccacia for a fundraiser. We were meeting at 9 o’clock Saturday morning to make the bread, and I had a busy Friday so I didn’t end up starting the poolish until ten-ish at night. Since it has to ferment for 4 hours before being refrigerated I couldn’t do it in shifts -- so basically every bowl, kettle, and pot in the house ½ quart or larger was full of yeasty goodness and I went to bed and set the alarm for 2am. At which time I dragged myself out to the kitchen, scraped the contents of each bowl into a 1 gallon freezer bag, put the bags in the fridge, stacked the bowls on the counter, and went back to bed.
Bob was on the road, and I had a major writing project that week, so the kitchen didn’t get cleaned. I did grab a few bowls off the stack and wash them every time I wandered through to make another toasted cheese sandwich (which was what I lived on for the week. No mental energy to spare being creative in the kitchen. Toasted cheese three meals a day. With Cajun seasoning.) But by the time Bob returned (and my paper was mailed) there were still 5 or six bowls with dried on flakes of dough. And stacks of small plates (and saucers, from when I ran out of plates) with little bits of dried on melted cheese. And water glasses everywhere.
Bob, who normally does the dishes, got this funny “deer in the headlights” look. So I sent him into the living room while I cleaned the kitchen. But when I got to the stack of bowls – oh my. That smell! That heavenly aroma! Like apple cider, and bread, and honey and, and . . . aaaaah. So I carefully scraped all the remaining flakes of dough into a small bowl and dissolved them in warm water. I fed it every few days with water and whole wheat flour. After a week or so I had enough to divide – saving a half cup and mixing the rest with flour and salt for a small loaf of quite excellent bread. Depending on its feeding schedule I can bake every day or every other week or anything in between.
And anytime I go into the kitchen I can go over and smell the starter. It’s got that yummy-fresh cider-y smell. White-flour starters always smell too yeasty to me, but whole wheat starters smell like apples. *takes big bite of fresh bread spread with chevre and topped with sweet-pepper relish* Bliss.
Posted by Lady Jane (Member # 7249) on :
This thread should NOT be read immediately after the I Hate Doctors thread.
[ February 17, 2005, 12:15 PM: Message edited by: Lady Jane ]
Posted by ghost of dkw (Member # 4046) on :
Posted by margarita (Member # 6856) on :
mmmmm sourdough......
Posted by Lady Jane (Member # 7249) on :
It sounds so, so yummy. Posted by ketchupqueen (Member # 6877) on :
I don't like whole-wheat sourdough.
Only white.
*hides head in shame*
Posted by dread pirate romany (Member # 6869) on :
Ahhhh...I am having visions, er, smell hallucinations, now...I LOVE whole wheat sourdough. Not good at it myself, but Essential Baking does a wonderful one.
[ February 17, 2005, 02:28 PM: Message edited by: dread pirate romany ]
Posted by ElJay (Member # 6358) on :
quote: So I carefully scraped all the remaining flakes of dough into a small bowl and dissolved them in warm water.
I know this is perfectly legit for making bread, but man the idea squicks me out.
Posted by dkw (Member # 3264) on :
The great thing about sourdough is that you can tell by the smell if you’re growing the good kind of bacteria or the bad kind. Hurray for noses!
Posted by ElJay (Member # 6358) on :
Hey look! She's risen from the dead!
Um, I know it's considered a good thing to suck up to the boss, but don't you think this may be taking it just a bit too far?
Posted by dkw (Member # 3264) on :
Oh blast. I'm posting from my other office and I forgot to change logins. Now I've lost my pretty postcount number.
(And your post freaked me out, becasue I'm sitting here waiting for the last of the folks to leave after a funeral so I can lock-up. o_O )
Posted by ElJay (Member # 6358) on :
Ooops.
Posted by Christy (Member # 4397) on :
Except I have a very naughty cat who likes to bounce around the gallon bags until they burst, spilling all that yeasty goodness onto the floor.
I LOVE sourdough (although I've actually never made whole wheat) and Amish friendship bread, but after three times of cleaning up the mess that ensued, I'd had enough.
I envy you the yumminess, though.
And Tom gives me the same reaction when the kitchen is dirty. He just doesn't understand how I can even EAT with a dirty kitchen.
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