Today I finally mixed up some sourdough. I had been living off of previously baked loaves stashed in my freezer. I temporarily got out of the habit and began avoiding baking. Today I mixed up a blend of whole wheat flour, bread flour, oat groats, coarse cornmeal, kosher salt, sourdough starter, and Fleishmann's yeast for good measure, and water.
Making bread is not only a metaphor for life it's a huge comfort because it's a parallel life. My bread preparation requires a few moments to mix up the dough and then I set it aside in another room for the day. Before bed I will punch down the dough and refrigerate it overnight. In the morning I will shape the loaves and place them in pans to rise again before baking them in a 450 degree oven.
I forgot how exciting it is to have a live dough incubating. Baking bread is a drama with many acts.
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