11:53.445N 075:36.725W The Grand Sourdough Bread Experiment
Irene IV - World Adventure
Louis Goor
Sun 30 Jan 2022 20:44
I was given a special sourdough starter by my friend Irit a few days before
leaving Napa in December. Irit is a master sourdough baker. She spent the
lock down months of Covid studying and refining her techniques. Our family
was always eager to receive the fruits of her labours. Her bread was spongy
and airy, the signs of a healthy starter, lovingly cared for and properly
proofed and baked. I was excited to follow in her footsteps. She sent me
hours of video from her kitchen expounding on each detailed step of the way
from feeding the starter, to baking the loaf. I soon learned that the
starter becomes like a child - it needs constant attention and TLC.
The first step was to get the live culture from Napa, California, to
Falmouth, Antigua. My new baby was stored in the fridge until the last
minute, at which time she was packed and snuggly swaddled in bubble wrap and
2 Ziplock bags. The suitcase was sealed with a kiss and prayer and sent
through the baggage handlers at San Francisco airport. Upon arrival in
Antigua, with tight security and many searching questions, her fate was in
jeopardy. With a sigh of relief, we made it through. After her long flight,
she needed to rest. I fed her religiously with her favourite flour and water
while watching anxiously as her colour and demeanour gradually perked up. I
was nervous. So much seemed to be riding on the first loaf. The whole family
was involved. There was perhaps some jealousy? I appeared to be paying her
more attention than my human loved ones.
On the appointed day, the preparations began for the maiden baking voyage.
Irit was at the other end of WhatsApp in Napa and my cousin Nancy was a
comforting guide in Antigua. The first loaf was not a great success, but
just about edible! I feared that my starter had perished through the trials
of travel. After more feedings and gentle coaxing, the second loaf was a
triumph. When the springy loaf had cooled, it was devoured in minutes with
lashings of butter and jam.
The baking has not been all plain sailing (pun intended), the starter has
had to overcome motion sickness and home sickness, however, the regular
aroma of baking bread wafting from the galley keeps our mouths watering in
anticipation. There is nothing that reminds us more of home than the smell
of baking bread. The grand experiment continues, tweaks and improvements are
a constant, but the crew never complains.
Each loaf of bread we bake is another loaf consumed without plastic
packaging.
The following message was found beside the few bread crumbs left from the
most recent loaf baked:
Deer Sabeen,
I ams de burd dat et de bred. It wuz me de burd dat et de bred nots Looee er
Cavan er Jams. De is nace boyz. I ams de burd dat et de bred an I surry.
Burd
PS Bred is real gud. B.