Sourdough Therapy

This is my favorite kind of morning. The kind of morning where there are bustling sounds in the kitchen, the house has an extra layer of warmth that comes from the oven being used at full heat, and the smell of freshly baked bread is making its way into my bedroom. While I do love to eat artisanal sourdough bread fresh out of the oven on the regular, what actually makes me happy about this scenario is the fact that I know this indicates a happy baker in the house. Further proof of this comes when she texts me a picture of a triumphant loaf.

Jackie and I have been roommates for quite a while. We have seen each other through breakups, breakdowns, and everything in between. Jackie has always loved food, to the happiness of my taste buds and the chagrin of my waistline. While most kids were watching MTV, she was watching Food Network. While other girls were out shopping, she was taking over her mother’s kitchen, bravely trying recipes of a complex level. Fast forward to the current Jackie and you will find that she has developed a reputation for seemingly effortless good food, warmth, and hospitality. But bread baking is a newer art in her repertoire of kitchen skills. And really, sourdough has become an important part of her emotional

healthcare routine.

In January 2016 Julia Kramer wrote a piece on Tara Jensen that appeared on Bon Appetite’s website. Jackie felt an immediate connection with Jensen, better known as Baker Hands. She started following Baker Hands on Instagram, eating up everything that was said, from the technical aspects of bread baking to the anthropological connection to bread. In the history of sourdough lies a sense of community and soul. Baking sourdough bread is not a fad, it is a lifestyle, and it is a lifestyle Jackie would one day call her own.

Unfortunately, Jackie’s aspirations of the sourdough life would be on hold for a time. Early in 2016 she would go through her most difficult experience to date. I dropped my bubbly roommate off at the airport and two weeks later picked her up, a completely different person. Something happened on that trip that caused her emotional balance to crumble. The next several months were characterized by extreme anxiety and depression, something that she just could not seem to shake herself out of. Getting out of bed, going to work, doing the bare minimum, took everything she had and there was no energy left for cooking, baking, entertaining, laughing...all of the things that made her feel like herself. Jackie had fight in her though and she clawed her way back to functioning through therapy and

consulting with a medical professional.

Once she regained a modicum of footing, she was in a place to add in what would become “sourdough therapy.” She needed to get back to herself and she needed a regimen, bread was the perfect solution. Making bread on a “low day” was soul soothing because it needed her attention every thirty minutes, it engaged her, it gave structure to her day without overwhelming her. The process of making bread alleviated the disconnected feeling she was fighting by bringing her back into the present, engaging her senses and her hands, making her feel more herself.

Jackie’s first attempt at sourdough was not a mystical experience in which she had found her true calling, with that first loaf causing the angels to sing. The first loaf was so-so. Jackie had the good sense to realize that although sourdough is simple, there is a great deal of precision that goes into it. She ordered herself a kitchen scale which she would come to realize is a non negotiable tool, found some baskets at a thrift store that would be solely used for proofing her loaves (or putting them to sleep, as I like to think of it), and a Dutch oven. She watched videos of kneading techniques. She practiced. Every. Single. Week. Even with the right tools, it still took a solid year before producing a “good” loaf, although I enjoyed every last crumb of the “not good” loaves leading up to it.

Even still, several years later, each loaf comes out a little different. The fermentation process of the starter is a fickle maven, influenced greatly by humidity levels, air temperature and the kind of flour it is fed. Whether her loaves come out with perfect crumb, as they did today, or they are a little on the dense side, the process makes her feel confident and happy. So, if you are one of the many who has taken up sourdough during this pandemic, do not give up if it does not turn out the first few times, or the first few years. Find pleasure in the fact that you are connected to thousands of years of humans that have put flour and water together to ferment, knead, shape, bake, share and through this practice have found a confident, happy and hospitable lifestyle.

You’ll have to excuse me now, I have some warm bread to eat.

p.s. a big thank you to Easton Roberts for a very lovely photo shoot.