Midnight Baking

   Last night was interesting, to say the least.  It was chilly so I had the old woodburning stove chugging away.  Several nice sized hickory logs would slow burn for most of the night keeping the Little Bayou House somewhat warm.  Along about midnight, I awoke to the delightful scent of bread baking.  Hmmm?  Was I dreaming?  Did Son decide to try his hand at baking in the middle of the night?  Had a burglar entered then opt for making cinnamon rolls instead of thievery?  Since the only logical scenario was that I was dreaming, I promptly put my head back on the pillow and tried to sleep.  Nope.  Somewhere in this house, bread was baking and I was hungry!  I might as well get up and investigate.  Plus, the fire probably needed stoking anyway.

  My "dream" was not a dream at all and, no, neither Son nor any intruder was making breakfast.  Instead, I found my delectable aroma.  Earlier in the week, I had longed to bake sourdough bread but had no starter.  I had given my last bit away and needed to begin again.  Well, I did.  My sourdough starter had been put together three days ago and, since the house gets rather cold at night and I was in a hurry, I placed the starter on the back of the old woodstove.  There it would stay a nice 80 degrees and could grow rapidly.  It was far enough away from the heat not to spoil nor scorch yet stay almost lukewarm.  Sourdough starter does not smell like much for the first couple of days but give it a few and it starts to give off that nice, yeasty smell.  That was what I was smelling...not bread baking but yeast making!  My brain just twisted the two together and left me with hunger pangs!

  This morning, the sourdough starter looked divine.  A few more days and this will be the beginning of many tasty treats.  There is something oddly satisfying about creating your own yeast from scratch.  Try it!  It is not hard at all but you do need a bit of patience as it takes a while.  Happy baking, folks!

Oh, how I have missed you!

  They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder.   I can attest that it is true.  Being apart does, indeed, make a love stronger.  The yearning for togetherness is hard.  Then, when the separation is over, joy takes over again!  I know...been there and done that...I have missed you, dear bottle of sourdough starter!  You should have never left me but I am glad that you are back where you belong.  Life is good.  

  For years and years, a bottle of sourdough starter sat on the counter bubbling its way into my heart.  Breads of all sorts endeared themselves to me by sating the hunger pangs and, well, just tasting so delicious!  On one trip to Georgia to see the  Grandlittles, the starter up and died.  "Feed and take out the dog.  Feed and let the cat out.  Water the plants."  Such instructions were handed to Son when we walked out the door but not one mention was made to "Feed the sourdough starter."  The thing literally starved to death!  When we returned, I tried my best to revive the bottle of baking goodness but nothing happened.  I fed the starter but it was in vain.  Poor starter was dead.  Gone.  Kaput!  Never to be bubbly again.

  With all else I have been doing lately, I had forgotten all about sourdough bread until this morning. With our first cold front of the season putting a nice chill on the Bayou, I wanted to bake. On, my goodness!  Sourdough/cheese biscuits would be a delightful breakfast.  Oops!  Having no sourdough starter put a nix on that idea.  

  So, there was nothing else to do but mix together a new batch of starter.  Of course, I will have to wait for about ten days before the stuff is ready to be used, but, at least, I will have it when I wish to bake.  As soon as I covered the already bubbling jar, I had a request for a "start" of starter!  Yep.  I am willing to share.  Yep.  It is a good idea to share since this stuff will multiply exponentially if you do not bake every other day or so.  Yep.  I missed you, sourdough starter!  I am glad to have you back.