saturday is for baking.
that's no joke.
i've got lazy starters trying to figure out where to leaven,
up here away from the more-reliable tropical temperatures,
in this woodsly goodness,
where the highs and lows are more drastic than a manic depressive's.
here's the thing-
i'll get an acre of wheat, and a hectare of rye, and get it right,
even and/or especially if it kills me.
the rising bubbles of a very bitter batch of boules isn't so bad,
but when the acid might be trying to kill the yeast?
that's when the underlying sour grapes of a caustic aura
in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress has to be addressed.
what's the solution?
toss it, and use the ashes to begin again.
as i'm really just using the wet scrapin's from a big bowl of biga
to invigorate the starting point, and inoculate the wheat with microscopic treats.
i'm getting it poppin', that's for certain,
but i'd prefer a bit more oven spring.
looks like an enameled dutch-style oven (not the farty bedsheet variety)
is the future of my purchasing agenda.
i'll do what must be done,
to get what must be gotten,
because rules is rules,
and full immersion if the activest of activities when it comes to participation.
we're gonna act like activists, y'know?
single-minded and irritating, that is...
i made a whole wheat jaun,
and it's got MORE flavor than the crumb can handle, and a crust so crisp,
it snaps like a snare drum.
my pentosans are revived, neighbors..
check the sourdough-version-three-type teleport:
i'm sure you care about bread, right?
that's that staff-of-life sh!t, son.
the naturally fermented chemical hottness of intentionally harvested cultivated grains
that enabled us to have things like stability and fixed-point site specificity
is the TRUTH.
bread is the big business,
and while it's not exactly easier to make it myself,
it certainly isn't more expensive,
and it's not that hard, either.
if there's good in me, it's because i put it there,
and good bread makes better people.
i love that.
today is the last day of the worst part of the worst part.
it's a thing.
oh, don't fret-
it'll still be the worst,
it won't be AS bad as before.
that's the problem with things that are the worst, really.
even when they improve somewhat,
it's not enough to lift the derogatory superlative off.
hard styles abound in the working world of this woodsly goodness,
and a long weekend of vapid vacationy no-vacancy congestion
isn't going to improve that one little tiny bit.
there's work to be done,
and we've got a job to do.
my dough and i are prepared to get busy,
and there's white starter ready to rock as well.
i've got a split-level sourdough countertop in full effect,
and i've got the sh!t that gets the flour empowered.
it's all really happening,
from the bitter becoming better,
to ghastly goodbyes finally finishing up;
never quiet, never soft.....