Friday, August 8, 2008

Sourdough Starter, we have to talk...

Dear Sourdough Starter,

Where to start? These past few days have been great, but I feel like this is a one-sided relationship. I provide - I give you a warm place to live, food once a day, I check in on you regularly, I even talk to you sometimes - and you never give back. You're a taker, Sourdough Starter, and I've had enough.

I thought you were ready to move on to the next stage in our relationship. Last night you were bubbly and practically frothing at the mouth of the jar. I was so happy.

So, I proofed you and made you into dough. Once again I spent more time than I should have kneading and flouring and shaping you into something you're apparently not. I left you to rise for an hour and came back to check on you (once again, me checking on you!). You were just...lying there. No rising, nothing. Just sitting there, flat and heavy as a doorstop. I waited longer and still nothing! I don't need a doorstop, I need bread!

Sourdough Starter, what happened? We were going great, I thought. Sure, you kinda had a funky smell but I was willing to look past that. I thought that one day you'd grow out of it. That you'd mature. But no. I guess I was just projecting.

I've come to realize that I tried to make you something you're not. You're just not ready to become Sourdough Bread, and I'm going to have to deal with that. I've come to realize that you're just flour and water. Do you know what else is flour and water? Paste! That's right, Sourdough Starter, you're just paste!

Don't worry about me (not that you would). It may take some time, but I'll move on. I may try with another Starter...maybe even one from the internet. I hear you can get them on Craigslist for free.

I just want to say that I've had fun with you. But I can't keep up this charade. You'll never be what I want you to be, and so I'm just going to have to move on. In fact, I already have. I called ahead to Panera and they', how do I say this?....they've set aside a loaf of Sourdough Bread for me. I know it's commercial, but it's better than the nothing you've given me.

So that's it, Sourdough Starter. We're done. It's time for me to move on. I'm going to go console myself with Commercial Bread...

And just to make you feel bad, I'm going to do all things with Commercial Bread that I never could with you, like thump your bottom to see if you're hollow, spread you with butter and jam, and share you with friends. That would have been great, Sourdough Starter, but you ruined down the drain with you!

Love always, but not forever,



Anonymous said...

Ha! I have two 20-something year old starters in my fridge, one white and one whole wheat if you're interested!

Chris Freeland said...

Alanna - Oooh, that'd be great! I think. I'm afraid that it's just me, and that my house is somehow inhospitable.

UDCMRK said...

That's so sad ... can you two get back together?