By Michele Cote
The Rookie Mama
Sourdough – I just can’t get enough.
I spent my 2020 pandemic lockdown times growing baby bump boy number four, followed by his subsequent birth.
Because stretching my kid tribe to a quartet occupied a fair amount of brain space during the events of shelter-in-place, I never gave a second thought to the other kind of growing and stretching trend sweeping the nation – Starting sourdough.
I mentally added it to a ‘someday’ list, guffawed in a sort of ‘who-am-I-kidding’ way, and shelved that inkling far back to the recesses of my brain behind the far more pressing issues of BinaxNOW boxes and N95s and curbside grocery pickups.
With a new mouth to feed in the assembly of boys, the prospect of additionally feeding a container twice daily atop my kitchen counter already strewn with puzzles and virtual-learning-worksheets was not a tempting one.
So I digress.
Here we are, a few years later.
We’ve been showing our literal faces again for a couple of years but I’d never returned to that sourdough consideration.
Until a few months ago, when my husband found an adult education workshop all about said topic.
How to make it, how to feed it, how to bake with it.
We didn’t hesitate and signed up quickly.
As it turns out, people love their sourdough classes – We didn’t make the dough cut last time this class was offered so were sure to nab a spot immediately this time around.
Ladies and gentlemen, start your sourdough engines.
The evening class turned out to be a sensational hands-on learning experience taught by a fantastic and forgiving chef.
The small group of participants tucked in the small high school home economics classroom ranged across varying ages, and all eager learners.
Everyone partook in various steps of baking, prepping, proofing – who knew ‘proofing’ wasn’t a term resorted to writers only? – measuring (math: therein lies my weakness, I’ve no shame saying so), kneading, and delighting in the floury messes.
We were kids in King Arthur’s court – King Arthur brand flour, that is.
Tiny bubbles in my sourdough, not my wine.
And for my husband and me, this was truly a special date night out.
For a moment, we were keeping an eye on the baking time, not bedtime.
For a moment, we were immersed in making our own messy dishes together, not reminding kiddos to wash their own.
We were learning a unique, new skill; making core memories and coffee cakes.
And sourdough is a philosophy I can get behind, because it carries on.
Like joy, it grows – as long as you feed it a bit.
Since that floury, fun class on the special date night, we’ve continued the experiments in the home.
Our weekends are filled with sourdough waffles, pancakes, and bagels.
We even made chocolate chip Irish soda bread for St. Patrick’s Day.
We adapt as we go – not every recipe was a hit out of the park – and we improve.
Like life.
Grow and learn and grow some more.
Staying fed.
Even my math skills are more refined, like a bag of all-purpose.
All this added from-scratch baking in lieu of store-bought has been a warm welcome to our wallets, too.
Baking delicious breads and breakfast foods has truly been a delight, and as it turns out – Sourdough’s not even difficult.
Nor is it any sort of mystery.
It’s a simple 1:1:1 ratio (starter, flour, water) – the sort of mathematics I can totally get behind.
It’s a leavening experience, if you will, and we’re tipping the food scales in the favor of joy during uncertain times.
I can’t measure the delight in grams, but I guarantee it’s worth considering, worthy of more credit than a pandemic trend of yore.
So get out there and pick up your King Arthur brand, or at least get your start with a sourdough class.
It’s worth the investment in yourself.
The coffee cakes alone are worth it.
– Michelle Cote lives in southern Maine with her husband and four sons, and enjoys camping, distance running, biking, gardening, road trips to new regions, arts and crafts, soccer, and singing to musical showtunes – often several or more at the same time! <
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