One of my other newfound husband-passions is the baking of bread.
(NB. I’m using the word “husband” in its accurate Anglo-Saxon etymological sense — the hus-band as one bound to the household; a homemaker if you will, every bit as much as the huswyf.)
One of my new years’ resolutions for 2007 was to try my hand at sourdough; now that it’s November I’ve finally gotten around to starting a starter-culture. In the attempt to find an out-of-the-way and warm place for the starter to live for the few days before it goes into the fridge, I opted for the downstairs 1/2-bath where the brewing magic currently takes place.
The sourdough starter is going wild.
I can only surmise that it is quite happy to be in the company of the currently-fermenting Scots Ale and that there must be whole legions of wild yeasts floating around that little room. The sponge is way ahead of schedule. This is exciting. Stay tuned; I’ll return to this topic in future posts as I continue to explore and experiment with sourdough baking.