I Tried to Bake Sourdough and All I Got Was This Sentient Blob
The starter arrived in a small glass jar, bubbling away like a science experiment that had achieved consciousness. The woman at the farmer's market—let's call her Sarah, because that was her name—assured me it was "very active" and "practically foolproof." She said this while making direct eye contact, which should have been my first warning sign. I paid her twelve dollars. Twelve dollars for what was essentially fermented flour paste. But I was optimistic. I'd watched approximately forty-seven YouTube videos on sourdough baking, bookmarked seventeen blog posts, and convinced myself that I, a person who once burned water, could master an ancient fermentation technique perfected over thousands of years. In a weekend. The jar sat on my kitchen counter, gurgling ominously. I named it Gerald. The Science of My Downfall For those unfamiliar with sourdough, the process is deceptively simple: mix flour, water, and starter; wait; shape; bake. Four steps. How ...
