As the expression goes, I’ve been baking since Hector was a pup. I’ve tried sourdough but have had no success, unless you count a bowl of semi-foamy smelly bread, water and supposedly wild yeast a substance that won’t poison you. After lurking on several Facebook pages devoted to sourdough baking, I was energized but cowed by the glorious loaves folks were turning out regularly – such gorgeously artistic and firm-looking boules before and after baking. Mine, not so much. More boo than anything else! I even ordered freeze-dried sourdough from a place called Breadtopia in California, but when the tiny package took three weeks to arrive and was postmarked Denmark, that should have been a clue that it wasn’t the magic elixir I’d hoped…

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