cheryl
Administrator
Staff member
Life After Sourdough What are we going to do now? - Grub Street
Four months ago, right before the city shut down, I made one last in-person trip to the grocery store to buy flour, yeast, and red lentils. Also chili-garlic paste. Also two bags of chocolate chips. By then, I understood, sort of, that things were bad, but I wasn’t ready to become a survivalist about it.
Then I left the yeast on the kitchen table, and the dog ate it. (She is fine.) Then there was no more yeast to buy. “No problem!” I told my boyfriend, hopped up on the adrenaline of no longer having a job. “I’ll just make sourdough!” For three minutes, I felt resourceful and wise, like the kind of person who’d be a real asset on a wagon train. Then I checked Instagram, where the movement was already fermenting.
The best thing about pandemic sourdough is that it’s actually two hobbies: making sourdough and reading trend pieces about how other people are making sourdough. In some way, I’d hoped that my fermenting sludge — the “starter” — would reframe misery as urban homesteading. A pandemic, yes, but what a wholesome one! In between the feedings, I learned to knit. I kept the radio on all day, every day. Outside, there was no noise except the sirens. Inside, my apartment was incongruously cozy.
Four months ago, right before the city shut down, I made one last in-person trip to the grocery store to buy flour, yeast, and red lentils. Also chili-garlic paste. Also two bags of chocolate chips. By then, I understood, sort of, that things were bad, but I wasn’t ready to become a survivalist about it.
Then I left the yeast on the kitchen table, and the dog ate it. (She is fine.) Then there was no more yeast to buy. “No problem!” I told my boyfriend, hopped up on the adrenaline of no longer having a job. “I’ll just make sourdough!” For three minutes, I felt resourceful and wise, like the kind of person who’d be a real asset on a wagon train. Then I checked Instagram, where the movement was already fermenting.
The best thing about pandemic sourdough is that it’s actually two hobbies: making sourdough and reading trend pieces about how other people are making sourdough. In some way, I’d hoped that my fermenting sludge — the “starter” — would reframe misery as urban homesteading. A pandemic, yes, but what a wholesome one! In between the feedings, I learned to knit. I kept the radio on all day, every day. Outside, there was no noise except the sirens. Inside, my apartment was incongruously cozy.