After the weekend of college move-in, we came to a quiet home. No more firstborn daughter who incessantly sings and plays musical instruments. Sigh.
My pets were hibernating in the refrigerator for this anticipated weekend travel. So I told my husband, “Let’s have the regular bread for tomorrow because Baby Doughy will require some hours to activate.”
It was late in the evening and a miracle that we were even home considering the flight delays and the cancellation of our original flight.
Thank heavens for my well-travelled husband who knows the drill when it comes to these kinds of airport mishaps.
We were able to get into another flight and safely home, without our luggages. “It’s the last thing we needed anyway and probably the only time when we don’t welcome having those luggages home,” my husband said.
True. Those four luggages contained all of my firstborn’s things for college, and contained nothing but laundry and empty space on the way back home. I definitely don’t miss the dirty clothes.
So back to my empty bread basket.
What a surprise to hear my husband say, “Oh, no. I won’t eat anything other than sourdough bread. I’ll wait it out.”
I did a double take and stared at him. Did he really say that?
He smiled. “I’m now a sourdough snob.”
I took out the two mason jars of sourdough starters from the refrigerator and started feeding the babies. Wake up! Daddy misses you.
Of course, I overfed them again and ended
up with six bubbly jars the next day. I must have missed them too because I got creative this time.
I bought some prosciutto and olives, made a pesto sauce and decorated the largest bread to make her look like a diva.
O, diva! Isn’t she lovely?
I think I may have awakened the sourdough monster within me. After this, I don’t think I‘ll be able to settle for plain, old sourdough bread again without getting creative every now and then.
Sourdough makeover, here we go!
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