The other night, my husband and I were invited to a potluck. I was especially unprepared for this potluck as I hadn’t prepared anything to bring. So, I ended up bringing a loaf of sourdough bread that I had made that morning.
I first decided to make sourdough because it doesn’t require kneading and I particularly dislike kneading. Besides that, sourdough seemed to be a healthier option as it is easier to digest. So, as it’s less work and healthier, I was sold. I set to work making my own starter which took a week and then, started to make bread.
This was my third loaf that I brought to the potluck (the first two, I shared with my sister). Shortly after we arrived, we started to talk to another couple. I talked to her and my husband talked to him. Knowing that she was into health foods and to make conversation, I talked about how I had started to get into making sourdough and had made a starter. I went on to offer her some of my starter if she liked the taste of the bread, I had brought some to the potluck that she could taste. We went on to talk about other health things like getting rid of plastics. I also told her how I had made sauerkraut and described in detail the steps and how easy it is to make.
Meanwhile, my husband was talking to her husband. My husband was also making conversation and for some reason resorted to starting the conversation by telling him about my sourdough.
“Jane has really gotten into this sourdough thing recently. It was quite the process for her to make the starter, adding flour and water every day, switching glass containers. Now, she has to feed it every week to keep it alive.”
“Yeah, my wife was into making sourdough for a while too.”
“Yes, well it is a commitment. It’s good bread though and healthy too.” He went on for a while about my sourdough, then, realized he should talk about something else and changed the subject.
The funny thing is my husband doesn’t even eat bread, so here he is going on and on about the process of making sourdough when he just tried one little piece of one of the loaves.
As we were leaving that evening, the wife complimented me on my bread.
“Well, since you like it, I will give you some starter.” She enthusiastically wagged her head, “yes.”
Then, we went and said bye to her husband, he also complimented my bread. I guess he thought this must have been a big deal at our household. Unfortunately for him, his compliment led him to having to listen to yet another spiel about sourdough from me: “I’m glad you liked it. I’m going to give some starter to your wife, so she can make it. It’s quite the thing to have to make the starter yourself, it’s much easier to get it from someone else. A starter requires commitment.” He graciously smiled and agreed with me as I talked. At this point, I didn’t know that Allan had also talked to him about all the steps of making a sourdough starter, so this poor man had to listen to it all again.
On the car ride home, Allan recounted to me his conversation all about my sourdough starter. I laughed so hard I cried. This couple must have been thinking, “Allan and Jane really must not have much for excitement in their lives if all the news they have to share after months of not seeing us is their sourdough starter. For a whole week, they just watched this sourdough starter grow. For the big deal these two are making out of this bread, we better tell them it is good.”
The thing is that after putting all this effort into a starter, I don’t think I even like the bread it makes. It’s just too sour! I suppose I need to try other recipes. In the meantime, the bread that didn’t get eaten at the potluck, I’m going to feed to the ducks.