My Sourdough Is Full Of Tears

Let. Me. Tell. You. A story. It is guaranteed worth reading if you enjoy other people’s sadness.

Today is Easter (yay)! It’s also the day that I get to bake the sourdough I’ve been fermenting, cultivating, and reading motivational stories to for the past six days. I forgot to take a picture, but it was beautiful. I mixed the bread yesterday using the levain (which took 5 days to make), and let it ferment and then rest overnight. Then today, at 12:15, I put the two loaves I made in the oven at 475 degrees. Immediately after this happened, my friend, whose parents’ house I was planning to have dinner at, called to tell me he was on his way over to pick me up.

Since I had already put the bread in the oven, I didn’t want to take it out. But I needed to leave. Mistake number 1. So, I asked one of my roommates if she could take the bread out at 1:00. She had to leave at 12:50 though, so I asked my other roommate if she could just turn off the oven and open the oven door a little bit at 1:00 so the heat could get out. Mistake number 2. She agreed, and I was like “ah yeah so perfect”. So I go ahead to my friend’s house, my roommate texts me at 1:00 to say she turned it off, and I rejoice.

THREE HOURS LATER, I got home. And I went into the kitchen. And I was like, “oh wow, it’s super warm in here”. Then I noticed that the oven door was slightly open and I was so excited my roommate remembered to do that. Then I look up. And I realize the oven is still on. STILL ON. THREE HOURS LATER.

I opened the oven door, took out my barbecued loaves, and put them on the counter. I tried to convince myself it wasn’t that bad, but it was pretty bad. They were VERY brown. Then… and this is a thing that actually happened… I stood in front of the bread, twisted an oven mitt in my hands, and bowed my head in deep remorse. I seriously stood there for a good 10 minutes regretting all of my life choices.

When I got up the courage to try to cut into one of the loaves, I realized pretty quickly that the crust was a good half inch thick. I almost broke my little arm off trying to get my bread knife through it. The good news though is that the very center of the little chunk I sawed off the loaf was delicious. It actually tasted like sourdough! Three fourths of the loaf was completely inedible, but hey, you can’t have everything.

The first loaf, and a slice from it.

The top and bottom of the second loaf.


The bread pretending to be a face. Silly bread. You’re not a face.


2 Comments Add yours

  1. lprospere says:

    That is an incredibly sad sight😞


  2. My heart aches for you. So so so sad. Glad you had the courage to 1. Realize your mistake, 2. Try again, and 3. Not ask your roommate to assist you with the oven, ever again.


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