Feeding Sourdough Starter - a Tasty Thursday Post

Sourdough. Mystical, magical, create puffy bread that rises out of seemingly thin air. There's endless lore around sourdough, with aficionados waxing poetic about the provenance of a starter or even mentioning the terroir like they were talking about some fancy wine.

I suppose, though, when people can literally trace their sourdough starter back generations, there's bound to be some lore and myth and (dare I say it) pride. 

The first time I tried sourdough, from starter I made myself (it's not hard, by the way), I was scared of it and closed it up tight in a back corner of the fridge, pulling it out every now and then to feed it. I honestly cannot remember ever making bread from it, although I must have.

It died an ignominious death when it exploded in the galley one afternoon, spewing alcoholic glue so far into the reaches of the boat I was still cleaning it up three years later. 

Jeremy banned me from sourdough after that.

Until a friend gifted me a jar of starter last winter. She rolled down the window at carline after dropping her son off (I'm a teacher at Mountaintop Montessori) and handed over a ribbon-tied Mason jar that had a pretty cloth top on it. There was a piece of paper wrapped around it. "The instructions are there! Enjoy!"

I walked around with it gingerly, afraid it might explode like its predecessor.

After a couple of weeks, I screwed up my courage and unscrewed the jar. Time to feed this thing.

Feeding sourdough? It's pretty easy.

Making bread is magic. Making bread without using yeast seems to elevate that magic. To do this, you need starter!

In a week or two, I'll post a video of making bread with this starter. Meanwhile, though? Create some starter and feed it. There's something curiously satisfying about the whole endeavor!