The Sourdough Rabbit Hole

I'd love to take credit for the sourdough rabbit hole language but you'll have to see @Brad_Leone's Instagram feed for that fun. Any of us who've done the dive into sourdough during the Covid-19 Stay Home and cook-and-buy-up-all-the-flour-and-yeast-you-can-find frenzy will tell you making Sourdough is a test of patience, and tenacity, but oh, it is rewarding!

Sourdough does take procuring starter (I got mine from our local bakery Gusto Bread and right afterward, they were named one of Food and Wine's Top 100 Bakeries - coincidence?), days of  feeding and tending your starter, deciding what to do with the pour-off - I vote scallion pancakes - then, there's some learning about how to work with a dampish dough, how to space the work across your day, extending it to two or more if you like. There is waiting. And, then trusting your loaf to a 475 degree oven and holding out for two whole hours while the bread cools and cures when finished baking. So far, each time has been fun and fruitful. (There may have been one time we didn't quite get to the oven stage.)

So what's the rewards beyond sourdough toast? First, I finally learned why my Dutch Oven is called a Dutch Oven (mine's French for heaven's sake.) You bake the bread in the Dutch Oven inside the oven - the key to trapping steam for moisture and a good crust.

I thought the big fun was cutting into the first loaf, finding a good firm crust, big holes and just the right amount of moisture. It's was exciting. (It was also fun to hear my son tell me how much he loved the flavor.)

The really big fun is in learning, researching, exploring, trying and looking for improvement. My big mistake so far was adding the flour for an autolyse (sourdough words), answering the phone and coming back and adding water just as the scale turned off. I ended up with an inaccurate measure of water, more than I was shooting for, and the dough literally slid off the board during the pre-shape, like a Dali painting. I didn't try to save it, I chucked it and wrote it off to focus.

I found these videos and websites great fun for exploring:
Pro Home Cooks - 15 Mistakes Most Beginner Sourdough Bakers Make - It's really 15 steps to really good (and pretty simple) sourdough. I use his recipe with a couple of twists. (I can't get my hands on Einkorn and, I only use organic unbleached because organic seems to help the tang. I also hold back 100 grams of water adding half of it when I add starter and the other 50 grams when adding salt.)
Sarah Owens on Food52 - on starter
Sarah Owens on Food52 - on the best sourdough Table Loaf. Sarah is pretty wonderful and makes it all feel easy and breezy. I've followed her method with good results, and her loaves are really beautiful - bread goals.
Then there's The Perfect Loaf - I think Maurizio has all the information you'd ever need on bread and sourdough specifically. There's really good technical information here - the benefits of following temperature, etc., a truly tremendous resource.
Back to Brad Leone, you might love watching Brad and Claire in the Bon Appetit Test Kitchen and learning about slap and fold. Tried it. Kinda fun!

You'll find some respectable seriousness at the San Francisco Baking Institute demonstrator. When I was on my second set of loaves, he helped me figure out the pre-shape move. (I love the idea of a giant tub of dough. But I'll need some serious refrigeration and a much bigger oven for that.) For now it's two or three loaves at a time. Sharing with friends and hoping for good feedback. Last week I traded a loaf for some lemon bread, banana muffins and beets. Tomorrow I have plans to trade a loaf for some fresh from the coop eggs. Where does this lead? Who knows. But I got my Bread Lame in the mail last night, so I'm invested.

My baking pal Leah and I have been socially distancing in our baking with about 50 miles between us. We text and share photos as we go. Last week we both had a baking day where our results were a less tangy loaf. I went to work to find out how to adjust the tang upward and found there's something to be said for lower hydration levian, whole grain flour, and longer fermentation all help. But as we chatted about what was different, we both figured out; we'd found the holy grail in these hard-to-find flour days - bread flour. We each used it. It was the constant that had, indeed, affected flavor. I'm not really ready to give up on it yet. (I mean, I bought about eight pounds!) So this week, I'll use it, but, I'll also be sure to use lower hydration starter, mix in whole grain flours, and go for long fermentation. (I'm learning...)

Last night my college girlie and I made baguettes. I am clearly down the Rabbit Hole and happy to be there. Those baguettes are super tart and delicious. I'm learning about shaping them - they need a long cool rest so I definitely need to clear out a whole shelf in the refrigerator for all this fermentation, proofing and testing. But then, what will I we do with all the pickling supplies?

Are you listening to Vicente Garcia?

Let's just enjoy this, shall we?
It may be 50 degrees and winter here in sunny Southern California, but the warm breeze is almost detectable. (Under the heater vents.)

Give us a word::Mission

Mission
For those of us who might have room for one more New Year’s resolution, it might be this: to be open to new epiphanies, to be open to seeing others in new ways, to seeing Jesus in new ways, to seeing ourselves in fresh and perhaps even surprising new ways.

-Br. Mark Brown
SSJE

Oh the fun of connecting to these Anglican Brothers and their view of Christ. For me it augments the beauty of the heart shaped, bug eaten rose petal, lying on the sandy grout between the bricks in winter. Grace. Joy. Gifts. This mission correlates to My One Word for the year: Freedom. More on that later. But how about that freedom to find new epiphanies? We get to choose the freedom to see friends with fresh eyes and an open heart. 

I'm all for the Mission.

Happy New Year!

May this be, for you, for all of us, a year of joy and progress, of consideration and choice, of love and freedom.

The Advent Word process brought the brothers of SSJE into my awareness. This morning, Brother Almquist shared this:

Jesus
Some days I think our best prayer, our best plea, our best praise is simply to use the name that God has finally shared with us: Jesus, which literally means, “Yahweh saves.” You have Jesus’ name, Jesus who is intent on saving you from whatever it is that just kills you.

-Br. Curtis Almquist

I'll ponder this a while. It's certainly a good way to start a new year, in Jesus name.

AventWord::Celebrate

Celebrate
Christmas is a feast of the senses! It is a celebration of our ability to see and know and taste and touch the power and glory and revelation of God. It is not just about a birth that happened long, long ago and far, far away. It is about the way in which God manifests himself to us in the person of Jesus as friend and food and hope and love. It is a celebration of our ability to grasp God and to sense him with all our being.

-Br. James Koester

However you celebrate The Glorious Holiday, may you be filled with joy and peace knowing the earth shook and history changed for ever on the day the Savior was born, Emmanuel. May love permeate each fiber of your being and may you have fun in the celebration.

When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceedingly great joy. And when they had come into the house, they saw the young Child with Mary His mother, and fell down and worshiped Him.  Matthew 2:10

AdventWord::Live

Live
We are meant for life in all its fullness. Our getting together for the sheer pleasure of it anticipates the Kingdom and the heavenly banquet. Conviviality and celebration, especially in the face of difficult circumstances, bring light into the world.

-Br. Mark Brown

On this particular night, we'd seen the a play downtown with dinner before at a beautiful outside restaurant. We ate, al fresco, next to the Main Public Library. Beautiful. Scaffolded. Looming. 

The play was fine. A revival of a 1950's play done in a minimalist modern way. It left us, well, as the young crowd says, meh.

Mary suggested we stop for coffee on the way home. It was late. She and I are both really early birds, the husbands, not so much. So, we drove just a little bit and ended up at a favorite breakfast spot which transforms into a festive garden at night. There we were chatting, enjoying, savoring without the adult considerations of what the morning will bring. And simply living the evening out with each other. I do think these moments are exactly that. A taste of heaven and light in the world. 

We can live on these platters of time when the deeper darkness around us would have us stay in and starve. But then, Christ, the Giver said, "I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly." It will do me good to live out of this gift.

AdventWord::Surprise

Surprise

The egg took me by surprise. I was puttering in my garden, picking strawberries when I noticed it. The blue color striking. The brown dots in line with what I think a Robin might produce. But I'd never expect to see it. I've never seen one in my yard. The Bluejay grasps my attention. This was a moment of God's providence for me. God knows me and that I'm very often surprised by what becomes joy. Things that come from small things, like color, or a word, things noticed, kindnesses, love, eggs.

This thing, sticking with the One who turns the world upside down is a lovely thing. Sticking with Him, takes me to places where I'm startled and confused and surprised. I want to find Jesus as I come along with him, as he has come to me with love. I want to look and listen and find him in the unexpected way.

Here, I live in delight.


God comes to us as a vulnerable human baby to an unlikely couple in an obscure place. And in doing so turns the world upside down. Jesus says: Stick with me even if I am different, confusing, or surprising. I have come, and I am coming to you today with love! Look for me. Listen. I am coming in an unexpected way.

-Br. Luke Ditewig

AdventWord::Glow

That glow, the one of littles expectant with story, the fiance at the asking, the first notice joy, is from an inner fullness in what we have. A deep kind of gratitude. A deep beauty. Contagious. It spreads the light to us, the witnesses. Knowing who we are and to whom we belong, we can glow in the exchange of that knowing love. May you glow.


Glow
As children of the light we have the opportunity to either squander God’s riches or to capitalize on them by being ministers of God’s light, life, and love for all people.

-Br. Jim Woodrum

AdventWord::Promise

Promise
God gives us the responsibility of doing something ourselves about those faithless fears and worldly anxieties that are holding us back. We don’t have to do this alone. We have God’s promise of holding our hand and of helping us.

-Br. David Allen

Parenting? Dog husbandry? Air travel? All hold the promise of the unknown. The adventure. The anxiety. But just knowing the Ruler of the Universe, the High King has my back makes me giddy right there with the anxiousness. So, let's also grab the hand of the one next to us and remind with gentle love: we don't have to do this alone.

Photo credit to my Dear Husband who is off on an adventure himself.

This knife.

My son gave me Alton Brown's new book: Everyday Cook. It's great. Chock full of good ideas. But I got stuck, joyously, on the page with all the things he uses to get where he wants to go. Like Binder clips. It's about the second or third page. I've been peeking and then surfing to see if I have what I need. Mostly I do, but I upgraded a knife so far. (Not the one pictured.) And I have perused the interwebs for some of his recommendations.

Alton certainly said it loudest, or to the biggest audience, but I have almost always held that point of view -- everything in my kitchen should have more than one function. No gadgety gadgets for me. Years and years ago when I went to cooking school, friends and family loaded me up with this and that. All intended to make the kitchen easy and fun and what I found was that I didn't really end up using all of it. I'm fall-over grateful for every consideration, I just didn't use some of the pieces. I shared a bunch and kept a few. An example of one I don't really need? Turkey forks.  They look smart, but really, you use them once or perhaps twice a year when you make a turkey. And my dear, dear friend Jemma, who loves the Joy of Cooking, method for turkey (me too!) reminds me, you just need a couple of paper towels. I still have my Turkey forks. I use 'em, but you get that they live rent free in the kitchen all year.

My son, who loves all things Alton, gave me the Original Bear Claw pulled pork shredders for those days when I have no forks available. Ha. I got the joke right after I opened the package. He was quite proud of himself. (They turned out to have more than one application and one is actually a garden application.)

What I love is a well-considered tool. Like the knife you see in the picture. It was the first I bought, about a day after the introductory meeting at UCLA for my professional cooking course. I was so excited. And decided to be slow and careful to only buy knives I need. Really good knives and really serviceable knives. So this one had my name on it. An 8" Zwilling JA Henckels Chef's knife. About a week later I bought a 4" paring knife, then a boning knife. These were my companions and made it into my knife bag which went with me just about everywhere I went. (In my car. Is that legal?) I was thrilled, then, and am now, to have the tools of the trade in my hand.
I'm reading a book about a girl completely dedicated to cooking great food -- Kitchen of the Great Midwest by J. Ryan Stradal. And I'm reminded of how cooking is always new, with portent of magic and good problem-solving, just around the corner.

My knife, that should never have doubled as an opener for a lid of some kind, reminded me of that, too.

Just like writing, I'm called back onto my path.

Keep Practicing!

I have a newfound appreciation for the art of practice.

My very earliest recollections of practice were when I was eleven and a violin was placed in my hands. Initially the practice was just to be able to find a note. Get a sound.

But then, it became about finding a string of notes, a lyric, a rhythm and at some point it became about playing. Oh! The double entendre. Playing. Not so much for me at the time. I was working! I wanted to be really good, I wanted to have my teacher and my friends notice this. But of course, it takes facility. All this practicing wasn't building to one point, it was the point. Somehow either the adults around me never said it, or I just didn't get it.

Practice is exploring.

Practice is learning.

Practice is the path.

It can be that we practice what we love. If we let go, we can fall in love with what we practice. 

Since seeing the movie Whiplash, my son, a fairly talented trumpet player, has taken to loads more practice sessions. He sees the connection. Practice is a path leading to the level where he'll have more freedom. 

Me? I love to write. I have since high school, (which was a while ago). I began, then, filling spiral bound notebooks with words. And poems, and ideas and rants and schemes and dreams. I wrote and write because I love words. I love connections. I love the connections that words allow. Words in my head and words on a page. Strings of words that at some point become a real idea. Many mornings as I get those pages filled, I'm simply exploring -- practicing moving my hand and my mind together.

I've tried to keep this in my thought as I've approached other arts. So, some twenty months ago the words art journal came across my path and I added some art to a journal and then more and then, I, who know nothing about art, was making some art. Gratefully, I could hear my own words -- the ones I'd said to my kiddos when they were little and playing with art:

Art is an exploration.

Today Pam Garrison shared a bit about how important the rhythm of practice really is. Her work is wonderful. Always an inspiration, and because she writes about it in her fabulous blog -- we get a peek into how she thinks and all the joy she spills all over the place. While you go there, just look at all the practice. (It doesn't look to me like she wants her teacher to notice what she got right.)

All of this reminds me of the Ira Glass quote floating around right now. 

Then I remembered, I'd found something similar on the interwebs a while ago and pinned it somewhere. It's important. Oh, and it turns out Pam Garrison put dip pen to paper to share it. 

Here's my take: Practice doesn't make perfect. Practice makes possible.

Oh, and thanks Pam.

Paint the Pillows, Please.

I'm still very much in love with my Sketchbookery class.

These pillows were happily resting on my friend Joan's patio bench on her deck in Topanga Canyon. I believe she made them. A week or so ago, I spent a day there, soaking in the quiet. It was a little bit startling and fully wonderful.


Since we met 18 years ago, I've being at her home, but often wondered how working in LA balanced with the extra commuting time. This visit it all clicked. It was just she and her beautiful girlie and me, no party crowd. Quiet. At one point in the day, I actually sat in a chair with my head back and fell asleep in the canyon silence. Oh sure, there was the sound of a breeze off and on, but nothing like the sound of cars and people I get floating into my suburban quiet. It was so peaceful.
The pillow picture is a little remembrance of the day and the deck.

What I find myself loving about this sketchbookery way of coming at watercolor, is that I seem to be gaining some facility with the paints without the formality. I'll be so glad to go back later and get the ground-up detail of applying watercolor technique. But right now, Mary Ann Moss has encouraged me to just try to copy all I see. It's a brilliant way to become fearless! It seems that some of the detail is coming on its own.

I love the pillows, the friend who made them and the paint that got them onto the page.

What's making your summer special?

All I need is a good book.

Part of both art classes, Sketchbookery and also the Journey of Letting Go, is making an art journal with Coptic binding.

For my first attempt, I worked with Mary Ann Moss's version, a Coptic watercolor book with a chevron binding.

I'm very happy about the process and the outcome. This is the outside view, of course, made with three inner signatures of hot pressed watercolor paper, bound with bookbinding thread and utilizing a book with a perfect cover but expendable pages.

It's an arduous process for sure. Thankfully, I didn't hear the part about not making the book in one day until I was sewing the chevrons through that binding tape. It's probably best that way. Completion is it's own reward.




When I finished, I shared it with anyone who would look. My clan is supportive, with the greatest supporter, my dear husband, who would like to buy one from my store. (I have no store.)


Later, I kissed all my people goodnight as they peeled off to go to bed and when the last was gone, I went into my kitchen studio area (that would be the kitchen table) and put some paint into the book.

I worked from a picture on my iPad taken of my treasured Hebe plants and christened the first page. It's a working book, a place where I can learn.

Hebes & the Hebe Society

Hebes are beautiful. Mine are just about this color with this wonderful vibrant magenta, and some lighter pink flowers. My friend MaryEllen loves them, which made me notice them all over again. Noticing is good.

It was a rather happy day in my happy little art space.

How about you? What are you painting?

I'm a better cook because I letter

As I've mentioned quite a few times here, I'm enjoying a Sketchbookery class. This week, beyond making a sketchbook or two, we had demonstrations and lots of ideas around lettering. Pam Garrison showed some calligraphy methods. Here's a look at one of her fun designs:

Pam Garrison's wonderful art.

You can find more of her work around the net. But I say, start here.  

The lettering she demoed was similar to this style: 

To see the real lettering you're just going to have to take the class. Take the class!

It's a simple direction. Light on the upstroke, press down on the down stroke. Simple. And so confusing. Especially if you're trying to write in a lettering font style the same way you actually write. I find that I get ahead of myself and the simple instruction confuzzles me rather dramatically. 

So, I stopped. 

And looked at the video again and noticed that she was going slow. Slow. Enjoying the practice of getting the letters onto the paper. (For us to learn.)

I don't know if she goes slow when she's home alone in her art studio. But she demonstrated slow for us chimps in class and I had one of two rather brilliant AH HA! experiences today: Slow allows space for creating. It invites time to just be time which we can take to do what we truly love or want to learn or practice, etcetera, etcetera.

I slowed down and even decided to break the pattern of "trying" and zipping through. (Oh my gosh I know this so well. Why did I forget? When I was seriously working out violin passages all those days ago I went slow, slow, slow before I ever went fast. I know this in my bones.)

I made myself create the upstrokes and downstrokes separately -- breaking the writing pattern and they looked much closer to the demo.

Muscle memory is good. 

I remembered slow. 

And applied it. 

It was fun.

Then I returned to my comfortable artistic home, cooking, and made my kiddos their favorite Saturday Apple Dumplings. 

Taking time. 

Enjoying slow. 

And they really were more lovely than ever. 

Birds and Flowers

It might be time to step up and share the messing around. While studying, working, being a wife, mom, and GSD owner, keeps me busy and happy, so does cooking, writing and painting. For the last two or three years, the writing has been largely kept to the morning pages; three a day every morning in a spiral bound notebook. The cooking has been a bit on the fly and largely undocumented. And, this flirting with art has moved its way into my life. At first it was a gentle call, then tug, a pull, a shove. I feel like God is intervening for the sake of creating.

So it goes. I'm paying attention and taking a couple of online courses. Exciting! I love this one. And am fully dedicated to this one. Signed up for this one, too. Each of them offers a different focus and each is available for a full year or two so I can work as I go and take the space I need in my studio.

Which to many people looks like a kitchen.

I'm open. To being pushed. Pushing. Advancing this long awaited cause. I've collected art supplies and played around with paints, art journaling, etc. forever. So a big dollop of focus and a slug of intent gets poured into the cup and voila. Art. Emerging. Joy, too.

I'll gladly share that Janice MacLeod Lik and her wondrous book, (which you need to read) PARIS LETTERS, provided some pretty big inspiration. Her book seemed to ignite something; combining the lingering influence of a post college Paris trip and all those revisiting references in literature and culinary studies. Once I put the book down, the colors and brushes came out.

Janice once shared that she's beholden to art supplies. Read the post, she might say she's crazy when it comes to art supplies. Her words were like permission. (Hilariously truthful permission.) So, off I went to snag the supplies needed for the block class. I learned all about Dick Blick (who, if we ever really meet, will be my favorite man in the world for a while. Diamonds? No thanks, I'll take art supplies.) and Jerry's Art-A-Rama and finally, the capitol of the world of art stores, Art Supply Warehouse, right here eight short miles from my home. They have everything. Everything. From the right block of beginner watercolor paper to the fanciest single block pans. Every Copic marker color and the paper it won't run through. Everything.
Janice would have a field day.

So now, all seems to be right in the world. I find myself a much happier girl and each day I want to wake up a little earlier to get something on paper before the world calls me into my next steps. I'm learning from words I've said to my lovey kiddos from their first days with color and paper: Art is an exploration.

I'm up for the exploring.

Attending the gift. A patch of dirt.

My beautiful friend Vicky gave me 18 pink tulip bulbs for my birthday.

They spent the winter in the fridge.

Today they went easily under ground.

So now we wait.
And watch.
With joy and expecting.

Joy at Christmas:: the pomegranate

I do love the sweet and tart beads of fruit peeking out of the beautiful pomegranate.

Perfect in a kale salad.

Perfect on the plate.

And a long-standing family tradition. I can recall purple fingers for days when I was a kid.

My 85 year old mom loves this new technique and seeds every one from her tree. Then she shares them with her pastor! Mom, bring them by!

Joys of Christmas:: My neighbor's tree

It's very sweet that my neighbor has his tree up early and the lights on for my enjoyment at 6 AM. He had it up the day after Thanksgiving and asked how I liked it. He let me know that he's aware that I'm up early and thought he might send me Christmas wishes every morning.

That's a kindness I wouldn't have asked for.