I have a new pet. It lives in a jar on my cupboard, it needs to be fed regularly, and it sulks when I neglect it. Its name is starter, and apparently, I’m a sourdough person now.
A friend gave me a piece of her starter — a healthy one. I was pretty sure it would be a piece of cake to maintain.
In two or three days, I had almost destroyed it. I was frustrated and feeling defeated. What was I doing wrong? How difficult could it possibly be???
I went online, had a serious conversation with AI, and got an easy-to-follow rescue plan. I jumped right in. A couple of days later, the starter was happy and thriving. Crisis averted. Humility acquired.
I then decided to bake my first sourdough: a focaccia. Forgiving, fun, and relatively easy to make — I baked two while my son was visiting. We devoured the first one the same day. He took the second home with him, and I later heard it didn’t last long either.
I kept feeding my little pet for another week before baking again — this time a second focaccia and my first attempt at sandwich buns. Tasty, but with definite room for improvement. Notes taken.
Baking is still in its infancy in this house. Nothing like the plain yogurt I’ve been making every three weeks for the past three and a half years — that one I’ve got down cold. But I hope bread becomes a regular thing here, because there is nothing quite like the smell of it filling the house on a quiet morning.
Here’s what sourdough has already taught me, and I’ve only just begun: you can’t rush it. You can’t ignore it. You have to feed it before you need it — not after. Leave it too long and it goes flat, sour, defeated. Give it regular attention and it rewards you beyond what you expected.
I’ve been thinking about what else in my life works exactly the same way.
What about you — what have you been neglecting that’s still alive and waiting to be fed?
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