first loaf of artisan sourdough
Photo by J. Harrington
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But, for the first time ever, we baked sourdough without yeast! In the process, we also discovered a few other, a-hum, anomalies in baking artisan bread. The Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day formula calls for baking for about 30 minutes at 450℉. Artisan Sourdough calls for a total of an hour at 450℉. When we used the Five Minutes baking time with our gluten-free flour last week, the bread came out mostly unbaked with a nice golden crust.
So, one of our bottom lines are that we're having fun playing with following directions and learning in the process. Next time we bake some gluten-free artisan bread, we'll use the artisan sourdough technique and timing. We're also learning to pay more attention to adjustments that need to be made with flour substitutions. As some of the creative types we read from time to time declaim, if we never make mistakes, we're unlikely to learn anything new. Plus, as we were reviewing the Five Minutes contents, we rediscovered a Vermont cedar bread recipe we've been meaning to try. It had sort of fallen off of our radar screen. We'll get to it next week, since the forecast "January thaw" isn't likely to come close to putting a dent in our baking program. Winter baking warms the house as it fills the house with wonderful smells. That's almost enough to make us be more tolerant of temperatures well below zero. Almost!
Aubade with Bread for the Sparrows
The snow voids the distance of the roadand the first breath comes from the early morningghosts. The sparrows with their hard eyesglisten in the difficult light. They preentheir feathers and chirp. It’s as though they were onevoice talking to God.Mornings are a sustained hymnwithout the precision of faith. You’ve turned the bagfilled with molding bread inside out and watchthe old crusts fall to the ice. What’s leftbut to watch the daylight halved by the glistening ground?What’s left but an empty bag and the dust of breadravaged by songsters?There are ruins we witnesswithin the moment of the world’s first awakeningand the birds love you within that moment. They wantto eat the air and the stars they’ve hungered for, little razors.Little urgent bells, the birds steal from each other’s mouthswhich makes you hurt. Don’t ask for more bread.The world is in haste to waken. Don’t ask for a nameyou can surrender, for there are more ghosts to placate.Don’t hurt for the sparrows, for they love you like a road.
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