I’ve been spinning up the fires of Mt. Doom again lately, having spent the last year and a half bragging my ass off about my bread baking ability.
So a few weeks ago the starter came out of the freezer and I started feeding it…and feeding it…and feeding it.
It’s huge now. I mean, I took a slab off of it, fed it really dry, then put it back in the freezer in two separate containers as a failsafe.
But I decided to actually add salt to it and keep a quantity in the fridge that I could actually bake without much trouble.
I do find it funny though, how long it takes me to get my chops back after not having baked for…well…any length of time. The first few attempts after I come back in to play are generally pretty atrocious. Baking bread is so intensely process oriented that the notes, consisting of little more than baker’s percentages and temperatures, actually tell me almost nothing about what I did.
And, because I’m “The Wing It Kid” I don’t actually take great notes on the important things if they’re not concretely quantifiable.
So my new purple enameled cast iron dutch oven will be deployed in the name of bread baking this weekend, if not tomorrow night.
Should be fun.
In the meantime… notebook covers.
But I’ll save that for tomorrow. It’s hard enough to come up with something that justifies me reaching for the keyboard.