Lair - Sourdough on the rise: how to confidently make whole grain sourdough breads at home

New York City still calls to me after I left twenty-five years ago to live in Seattle. When I can scrape together the time and money, I head to the Big Apple. My lifelong friend Joy lives just north of the city. During a June NYC visit ten years ago, I took Amtrak north for an overnight at Joys. For meals, she kept slicing off hunks of a loaf of homemade sourdough bread, adding fresh tomatoes, herbs, and cheese, and serving this with champagne; simple and satisfying. I had considered myself a poor-to-middling baker, but Joys slow-fermentation sourdough bread inspired me to up my game. I vowed to become a better baker. A better sourdough baker.

When I returned to Seattle, I resurrected my worn-out copy of Wild Fermentation, thumbed past the sauerkraut and yogurt, and finally located the sourdough starter instructions. It wasnt so hard. Flour and water in a jar plus time and attention. Luckily it was summer (budding starters like warmth). After several days of food and a little doting, Dottie came to life.

I named the starter Dottie for two reasons. First, the surface of my new friend-in-a-jar, when freshly fed, was a pattern of tiny dots (see photo). Second (and more complicated), routine is not my natural mode. I figured that if I were to make this commitment, giving it a name might help, especially if the name induced a sense of connection and fond memories.

When I was growing up in Wichita, I lived my first five years in a tiny house on Clover Lane. A family with three kids lived next door. Their mom, who everyone called Dottie, became my moms best friend. These two slim, dark-haired, witty, nurturing women kept in touch for decades. I took to Dotties personality, and as an adult continued to visit her even after my mom passed away. So, it occurred to me that if I named my sourdough starter Dottie, I would not neglect it. So far, so good. Thanks, Dottie.

In August 2015, I attended a lecture by Dr. Andrew Ross at the annual Grain Gathering called The Skinny on Gluten. Dr. Ross, a scientist, professor, and avid sourdough baker, warned us to keep a second starter around, just in case the happy health of our starters were to take a turn. For insurance I chose the starter used in the Nutrition Kitchen at Bastyr University. It was like taking on a second pet. But the poor thing had no name. Inspired again by the bubbly look of refreshed starters, I named her Phiz.

We called my most favorite aunt in the whole world (Phyllis) Phiz. The Moran clan on my mothers side had a silly sense of humor. I lived for four months with my aunt Phiz and uncle Bill when I was twenty-nine. The morning of my thirtieth birthday, Bill played the Star-Spangled Banner, volume high, on a record player (yes, vinyl!), and Phiz and he banged pots and pans to accompany. Phyllis grew up on the farm in Kansas where her Mennonite relatives landed from Germany. They were proud to grow wheat, and the family made fresh bread every day. When Phyllis died in 2017, I sent my cousin Tom a photo of Phiz the sourdough starter so hed know his moms nickname lives on. Sometimes I use a little of Dottie and a little of Phiz to make my breads. Sometimes just one. They cohabit nicely, side-by-side on the counter or in the refrigerator. Both worked hard in the creation of this book.