I don’t even know where to begin with this story, there are so many ups and down.
Back in September one of the interns at our CSA (who is an amazing baker, but I never caught his name, so I’ll be referring to him as Baker Guy) gave me a piece of his sourdough starter and instructions on how to care for it and use it. He’d been tending it for several years across multiple countries, and was delighted to share it. The next week I had to admit to him that I had completely botched the instructions, and it had exploded all over the kitchen counter and hardened into a rock, all within the first 24 hours. Baker Guy was amused. He excused himself for a minute, and came back with another jar of starter. His only request was that the next week I bring him a piece of whatever I baked. Talk about pressure! At this point in time I was still only at a 50% success rate with my yeast breads.
The following week I made an adequate loaf, and brought Baker Guy a slice. He gave it a passing grade and told me to keep up the good work. I was very worried, as the following week was our wedding (and by “our” I mean mrslovey and I, not Baker Guy) and then we’d be off on our honeymoon. How the heck would I be able to keep this gift alive and well, so that I could keep baking with it once we returned??? I’m not sure how, but amazingly enough I did it. The starter positively thrived, and each loaf was better than the last as I tweaked my recipe and gained more skill. Together, we made it through the craziness of the holidays and my super-frantic year-end rush at work. We made it through the doldrums of January and February, and the dreary gray of March.
And then, at the end of April, my starter just….stopped. Read the rest of this entry ?