My Sourdough Journey

 What I’ve learned on My Sourdough Journey

There are two reasons I started this journey into the food chemistry known as sourdough:

1. I was taking a class at my local college entitled “The Blue Zones – Nine Lessons for Living Longer” and had just read about an island off the shore of Italy called Sardinia. At the time the information for the book was being researched and at the time of its publication, Sardinia wasn’t the tourist mecca it is today. People in one of the villages located up in the mountains were known for living well into their nineties and many were in their hundreds. Among the things that are thought to have provided them such longevity is their diet of nuts, fruits, vegetables, Cannonau wine, and sourdough bread.

2. I decided to make a hard change to my own diet and began eating nuts, lots of fruit, lots of veggies, and, of course, added the Cannonau wine. Bread has always been one of those things that I can’t stop eating. So, there’s never any bread in my house, at least not until I reached that point of sourdough no return. I began researching sourdough bread, and began my own journey on June 19^th, after seeing a picture of a loaf of sourdough bread that had been painted with beautiful white daisies and pink roses. I thought to myself, “I can do that.” And so, that’s exactly what I set out to do.

Now, I had no idea that learning how to make sourdough is equivalent to taking a chemistry class. It’s a science project in sheep’s clothing. As I have since learned, having some chemistry under your belt wouldn’t have been a bad idea when it comes to learning how to make sourdough bread – especially when making the starter. According to Wikipedia, “Chemistry deals with the properties, composition, and structure of elements and compounds, how they can change, and the energy that is released or absorbed when they change.” 

And while sourdough starter is literally only two ingredients, flour and water, it’s the reactions that ensue from combining those two simple things that ended up rocking my world.

 Of note: While attending Florida State University in 1972, I registered for a chemistry class, thinking, “How hard can this be?” I had recently graduated from high school in the top 10-percent of my class, I had made amazing grades with little effort, and I had always been a quick study.

My first day of chemistry class as a freshman at FSU was also my last. I remember quite clearly the instructor explaining that the science of chemistry, and blah, blah, blah. Then everything went gray. I remember hearing something about nothing being smaller than an atom and something about a subatomic domain and it was at that moment that I decided to take the F.

When would I ever apply anything I could learn in this class to real life?

When class ended, I immediately went to the registrar’s office to find two classes I could take that would offset the F I would get in chemistry (because I wanted to keep my GPA up). I registered for Women’s Glee Club and Bowling. I could really belt out some tunes back then, and I had spent three successful years on a bowling league while in high school. Luckily, I was right. My two As offset my F in Chemistry.

Little did I know that somewhere in time, chemistry would matter in my life. (Sidebar: Kind of like skipping my typing class during much of my senior year in high school, because “I was never going to be some man’s secretary.” I practiced a little and showed up for tests and still made As. Lucky girl.)

Back to sourdough. Much like the micro-organisms living inside each of us, the bacteria that allows sourdough to flourish follows a type of life cycle. They are born, they grow, they multiply, and, unfortunately, eventually die.

For sourdough, the cycle resets every time we refresh or feed our culture. That reset is in the flour, it’s in the air, it’s on our hands, it’s in water, it’s in the jar, and on the spatula used to stir. 

I reset each time my son says “I love you,” when I learn something new-to-me, when I’m afforded the opportunity to travel to places I’ve never before been, when there’s a new moon, when I begin my day in grateful meditation, and when I end my day in the arms of my husband. Those are some of the things that refresh/feed me and make me grow.

When the sourdough starter that’s been fed fresh flour and water grows, it’s used to make loaves of bread to help fuel us. When I’ve been refreshed and grow, I’m then able to use my energy on the people I love and the things I enjoy doing. And, yes, even cleaning and doing laundry.

Just before the dough goes into the oven, I try to design a score that will help to make her beautiful. Is it necessary that she be beautiful? Of course not. But it’s not unlike each of us applying make up before going out with family or friends. That extra touch makes us feel better and, frankly, sends a message to those around us that we care about ourselves, too.

When the scoring doesn’t go as planned, thanks to my crazy tremors, it’s no different than when my lipstick and eye makeup are messed up. The bread still tastes great, and I’m still the same person.

 ·       My sourdough journey has taught me a new level of patience and perseverance. I’ve always believed I’m not a quitter (minus dropping or skipping classes I thought I’d never use in my life.), but I most certainly wasn’t going to be beat by wild yeast and friendly bacteria. 

·       Although I’m a very organized person, this journey has brought to bear a new need for paying attention to exact measurements and exact timing. One gram in either direction can be the difference between a dough that ends up heavy and one that rises beyond the top of the banneton basket. Exact timing takes practice. I was up all night with my first three loaves and my first try at focaccia.

·       I’ve learned that there’s no such thing as failure in this game of sourdough bread baking. My husband ate them all. As “they” say, “One man’s trash is another’s treasure.” About 30-years ago, I began decorating cakes, but believed in failures. I’d spend way too much time perfecting each rose petal, each leaf, each border, and not enough time stepping back and looking at the whole picture. It has taken me a very long time to learn to be kind to myself when things aren’t as I planned.

·       I find this journey to be meditative and it has helped make me more mindful.

·       I enjoy the process with each and every loaf and get super excited when I remove a baked loaf from the oven. Perhaps it’s because a friend told me to name my starter. I named her Julia, for my mother who would be so thrilled with this journey. So, she’s with me each time I step into the kitchen to dabble in sourdough.

 I don’t know why, and I’m not likely to spend any time worrying about it, but when I retired, I lost interest in crafting, sewing, painting, etc. All of the things that had driven me prior to retirement suddenly became of no interest to me. My sourdough journey has awoken my creative juices. Now, at any given time, you can find me working on a chunky blanket, canvas weave, macrame, painting, baking bread, or anything else that tugs at my creative heart.

Despite the naysayers, those who have been reminding me that I can go to the grocery store and buy a loaf of sourdough bread for $4.99, my journey has brought me so much joy.

Because as with anything; putting the last chapter on your newly written book, taking a cruise on a certain ship, winning an award, getting a promotion, celebrating your 51^st wedding anniversary – it’s not about the destination, but rather it’s about the journey.