Turns out, I'm a bread person
I didn't plan any of it.
A last-minute trip to New York, a mother-in-law who bakes like it's the most natural thing in the world, and suddenly I'm sitting at her table eating sourdough scones and bread that tasted like something I didn't know I'd been missing. We feasted on it…every single day.
When it was time to leave, she handed me a jar of starter and I took it home like I knew what I was doing.
I did not know what I was doing.
The starter has a name now. Lolita. Don't ask, it just came to me and it fit. She's needy, she eats every day, and she has opinions about everything. Temperature, timing, how long you've left her sitting on the counter unfed. She's a whole personality. And working with her is its own guessing game…some days she's active and bubbly and ready, some days she's just not, and I don't always know why.
I have baked around 12 loaves since then. Each one a little different, each one teaching me something…about hydration and fermentation and timing, heat, math… but also, honestly, about myself. About what I'm willing to show up for.
Because here's the thing nobody tells you: sourdough has a schedule, and it doesn't care about yours. I have set my alarm for 4am to preheat my dutch oven so my family could wake up to fresh bread. I did that willingly. Happily, even. I stood in my kitchen in the dark and thought, this is fine. this is actually fine.
The loaves don't last long. We go through one, sometimes two a day. They're gone before I've even fully assessed what went right or wrong. The bottom crust still gets too dark…I haven't figured that out yet. Bulk fermentation is still a guessing game. Every bake is a little bit of trial and error and a little bit of just trusting the process and seeing what comes out.
But I don't feel guilty eating the second or third slice with butter or ghee. Sourdough doesn't spike your glucose the way other breads do. It's easier on your gut. It's real food, the way food used to be made — slow and alive and a little unpredictable.
I'm not perfect at this. I might not be for a while. But something about that feels right. Learning something for the love of it, not because I've mastered it.
I didn't know I was going to become a bread person.
Turns out, I am a bread person.