I
have talked about it a bit, but I had a bad, bad experience with
homemade sourdough bread. When I was in 7th grade my
mother, in her eccentric wannabe hippy days, decided to expose us
kids to the Sourdough Experience.
Peanut
butter and jam, the lunchtime fare, does not go well with sourdough.
Today I might try a savory combination of peanut butter and pickles
or something like that on sourdough, or even something meaty. Pbj
just didn't work with Mom's sourdough.
The
first loaves were fine, but a little short—though not too wide
because I appropriately used an 8”x4” pan. And when I offered
some to my son, Zach, and his wife, Julie, I explained that it wasn't
that great, not what you may expect, a little heavy, not like at the store, she chastized
me: “It tastes just like sourdough, don't sell yourself short!”
(God bless her.) And the rest of the family ate it all up.
You
have to understand—I had really only eaten the low-end white bread
for my entire life up to this point. It wasn't bad (to me), either,
except for the pbj absorption problem with school lunches. But I
digress.
I'm
not sure why sourdough—although, come to think of it, sourdough was
less work and expense than other traditional artisan loaves.
[Nowadays “artisan” is a compliment.] But there were definitely
some problems with our Sourdough Experience.
The
first was the bread pan—it was too big for the amount of dough
placed therein. After the big rise, the bread reached about halfway
up the pan. This made for a decidedly short slice of bread—maybe 1
½ inches. The sandwich made with this bread was an impractical size
and the proportion of bread-to-crust was off. Plus it didn't fit into
the baggie very well.
The
second problem was the texture of the bread, along with the color. It
was, well, transparent. I think it may have been that the dough was
too moist, but whatever the issue, the bread was kind of see-through.
And kind of a pale grayish whitish blueish. It was neither appealing
to the eye, nor appetizing.
The
third problem was that it was really, really sour. Our former
sandwich bread was pretty much tasteless, so that made it
inoffensive. Not so with Mom's sourdough. It was extremely offensive
to the olfactory sense, my own and my classmates' as well.
Silly-looking,
transparent, and smelly. But wait, there's more.
 | |
| It freezes nicely!! |
In
my first marriage my husband always talked about his friend's great
homemade sourdough bread, he just couldn't get enough of it. But I
relived the traumatic 7th grade year of lunches every time
he brought it up. I knew in my head that there was good sourdough out
there, but I just couldn't embrace the concept then, it being so
fresh in my memory.
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| See recipe: myfamilyrecipes.livejournal.com |
And
then, just 40 years after the trauma (Really! That was 1972!), my
friend Liz came along. Liz loves real food. And she makes all the
bread for her family of 9: whole wheat sourdough. I got her recipe
and method in October, when I had my broken ankle and couldn't
entertain the thought of making anything, including the bed. Her
instructions (she had taught a class) were so thorough and easy to
follow that I couldn't resist the inner challenge. In April I went
ahead and got some starter from Liz, and off I went.
 |
| Great slices--sandwiches look appetizing. |
And
now I am a seasoned whole wheat sourdough maker!! And it's good! And
pretty! With great color and a delicious crunchy and satisfying crust! And it makes excellent toast.
Would
you care for some starter?
