The Journey of The Mother Dough
TLDR: Remove starter from fridge. Get two clean jars and mix 50g starter, 100g white flour and 100g tepid water into each. Stir until combined. Mark each, and set aside until they have doubled in size. Return one to the fridge, and use one to bake.
I am The Mother Dough.
The cool darkness of the refrigerator is my home, a place of quiet slumber. I dream of warmth and nourishment, of the day I'll awaken to the familiar dance of feeding and transformation.
Today is that day, but not for all of me. The refrigerator door opens, and I'm greeted by the warmth of the kitchen, a welcome contrast to my chilly abode.
I feel the gentle jostling as I'm lifted from my shelf, a surge of anticipation bubbling within me.
The familiar hand of The Sourdough Whisperer unscrews my lid, and a gasp of delight fills the air.
"Look at those bubbles!" her voice exclaims, acknowledging my eagerness and vitality.
I am ready to be revived, but only a part of me will continue the journey.
The ritual begins with a bittersweet farewell.
Two precise scoops, each measuring 50 grams, of my bubbly self are carefully removed and placed into two new, clean jars.
This is my legacy, the portions of me that will continue to live and ferment in new homes.
The rest of me, my remaining self, is set off to the side - either to be thrown away, or used in a sourdough discard recipe.
With a sense of purpose, The Sourdough Whisperer returns to the two jars containing each of my 50-gram offspring.
A precise 100 grams of white flour, their sustenance, is added to each jar.
It's followed by a measured 100 grams of tepid water, a rejuvenating elixir that brings their microbes to life.
Mandi's gentle hand guides the mixing, ensuring every bit of flour and water is incorporated into their eager form.
Each lid is replaced, but not completely. My offspring need air to breathe, to fuel their continued growth.
They are both placed back on the counter, and over the next couple hours, they begin to expand and bubble - and I watch from the sidelines as each of my offspring begins their transformation.
A quick glance reveals a mark on the jar, a measuring point for their impending growth.
I know that soon each of my offspring will double in size, and signal that they are healthy, happy, and ready to help The Sourdough Whisperer make wonderful loaves of bread.
Though my time in this form is done, my essence lives on. I have passed the torch to my offspring, ensuring the continuation of our sourdough lineage. It is a bittersweet ending, but also a new beginning, filled with the promise of delicious creations yet to come.