Sourdough Boy

The artistry of creation, of bringing the immaterial into existence, of channeling one’s gifts from the Most High, is a special interest of mine. I’m an artist in the kitchen. A cottage witch perhaps. I’m an artist in my family. A nurturer for sure. Baking love is a skill I’m learning, and yearning, to master this lifetime.

I enjoy pretending I’m on Chopped & must make a meal in 30 minutes with mystery ingredients. Or that I’m in a Hallmark movie & destined to meet my lover at a local cooking competition. Or that this is part of my origin story to owning a Michelin star restaurant one day. There’s no shame in these grandiose daydreams, they keep things light & fun!

In the kitchen, I’m in a flow state. I’m not one to follow a recipe exactly how it’s written or any recipe at all. My creativity flows effortlessly like steam from simmering soup. A time when anxiety doesn’t consume me. A time when self-doubt dares not knock on my door. A time when my mind, body, and spirit are in total alignment. 

I adore the oven I picked out for our new house. It has all the best features of course. My favorite is all the songs it’ll sing when preheating is over or the timer is done. It has giving me so much confidence in my cooking. As its first owner, I feel a sense of connection to it I’ve never felt before with other ovens. Since giving birth, I feel a sense of connection to my womb that I never felt before either.

“You got a bun in the oven” was always a saying I barely chuckled at. A strange, far fetched illusion. But then I decided to make my own sourdough starter and it changed my perspective.

Let it be known that I’ve never attempted to make sourdough before. I’ve eaten it, sure. My husband has baked plenty when we worked at bakeries. But me, Carri, have never attempted this alchemy before.

I crafted a starter on a Monday afternoon at 2:00PM. Flour, water, love. Inside a Weck jar. I hadn’t felt this joy of anticipation since conceiving my son. Like wow I’m about to grow something, someone! I named her Daphne!

There’s a whole process to maturing a starter by discarding some of it & feeding it. The first goodie I dreamed up making were banana chocolate chip muffins. I was short on time but ambitious. I roughly remembered a muffin recipe and threw in what I had available. I added a little of my discard to it too. I didn’t time them in the oven, just waited to smell them throughout the house. When I opened the oven and discovered perfection, it was like the pearly gates to heaven appeared with the angels singing. I’m practicing delayed gratification lately so I told myself to wait until they cooled to taste. I made 7 muffins. Not by design but I figure that’s great actually as a baker desiring a taster! When I finally took a bite, my whole body smiled. It was the best muffin I’ve ever eaten in my life. Then I shared it with my son, the best thing I’ve ever created in my life, and he flashed his 6 toothed smile at me. My lover mid-chew of his first bite looked at me in awe. Truly I don’t know if I can ever top that feeling of overwhelming satisfaction with life. Sharing a baked good you created with your family that you created, ahh, is just a full bodied yes.

I’ve noticed whenever I cook or bake with loving intentions, it tastes so good we wish we could eat it forever. Whenever I cook or bake with other intentions, it’s just okay, nothing special. It’s taken all my life to notice this key difference. Now that I’m finally living the life I’ve always daydreamed about, I can infuse love into anything I make in the kitchen. Whether it’s a cookie, a pressed juice, a minced mushroom pie, if it comes from a place of love within me, there will be no faults.

When my lover and I decided to have a child, we said we wanted a physical manifestation of our love. From the moment we found out we were parents until now, we’ve been nurturing him as attentively as I now nurture my little starter. Soon, we will mix a loaf into a bowl and bake it to perfection the same way our son baked in the bowl of my pelvis. Because as art imitates life, life intimates art.

When you are nurturing a living thing, with all your heart unconditionally, it grows so beautifully. I look at my now toddler pulling down my tea towels and at my sourdough baked goods equally in awe of what I’ve been able to create. This is all a prayer answered, a blessing bestowed upon us. And for that, I regret nothing and am grateful for everything.

*since writing this piece we’ve made so many things with my starter: pizza dough, dinner rolls, cookies, bread, pancakes, and cinnamon rolls!

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Do you prefer baking or cooking?

Do you want the muffin recipe?

Have you ever tried keeping up a sourdough starter?

Email me your answers! withcarrington@gmail.com or comment on Substack :)