An Aside: What Sourdough Taught Me About Life
Lessons in uncertainty and patience
FYI, this post isn’t about books or New York City, but thank you for indulging me while I ramble about something else entirely. Regularly scheduled programming will be back next Thursday!
As a perfectionistic eldest daughter with anxiety, I hate not being good at something on the first try. Even worse, I hate people watching me not be good at something on the first try, so I usually avoid trying new things in a public setting (see: my refusal to ice skate).
If I don’t even try, I reason with myself, I can avoid failure or potential embarrassment. So I’ve historically opted to operate within my comfort zone, content to watch from the background rather than actively participating.
But in the past few years, I’ve slowly taken smaller risks and opened myself up more to the possibility of failure. I started sharing book reviews and photos on my Bookstagram account, even though I didn’t know much about that corner of Instagram (spoiler alert: it’s the best place to be on Instagram!). I started a reading bullet journal, even though I don’t consider myself to be a very creative person. And most recently, I started this Substack, and putting my writing on the Internet might just be the scariest risk of all!
I know it’s impossible to be the “best” at any of these things, which I think has lessened my anxiety about just getting started. By simply remembering that my Bookstagram, my reading journal, and my Substack all make me happy, I’ve slowly started to care less about what other people think and focus more on fostering my own creativity. Perhaps it was this newfound layer of confidence that helped me plunge into something that’s always felt very intimidating: baking sourdough bread.
A few months ago, my husband and I were eating store-bought sourdough (and thoroughly enjoying it) when we looked at each other and asked, “Should we just make our own?!” We had missed the pandemic-era sourdough craze, when it seemed like everyone had a sourdough starter sitting in their kitchen, but one of my best friends was kind enough to share her preferred sourdough starter recipe, with the warning that it might take longer than expected to create an active starter.
I was overly optimistic—we had a recipe and some baking knowledge, so what could go wrong? Turns out a lot! We started strong, but there are a million little details and potential issues when it comes to sourdough, and our starter stalled on the 4th or 5th day (which we learned is actually a common problem). After weeks of tweaks and troubleshooting, we finally achieved an active sourdough starter, but getting our loaf to rise was a completely different question.
Surely, I thought, if I just follow all the directions and do everything right, my loaf will come out perfectly, right? Nope.
The first thing I had to learn was that you’re not going to get it perfect on the first try—there’s no such thing as perfect, really, when it comes to sourdough. There’s always room for improvement, and we’re constantly adapting and refining our recipe (based on how warm our apartment is, how accurate our oven temperature is, etc.). I also learned the importance of patience, which is especially challenging when you’re staring at some dough and willing it to rise and it simply won’t.
In the beginning, our loaves tasted good, but they were pretty flat. Sometimes they would rise slightly, but the texture was dense and gummy. We finally figured out the best timing and straight-sided vessel for the bulk fermentation, but we couldn’t figure out the cold proof.
As I write this today, we’re still in the process of finetuning our sourdough loaf recipe. With each bake, we get a little better, and our loaves are finally starting to rise and look more respectable! But I’m still fighting that natural tendency towards perfectionism. “It’s still not perfect,” I complained to my husband when I pulled the loaf out of the oven, before reminding myself (for the millionth time) that it’s probably never going to be perfect. And that’s okay!
At the end of the day, we’re baking sourdough simply for the joy of slathering butter on a freshly toasted slice (honestly, is there anything better than warm bread and butter?). We don’t need to monetize this hobby and open a bakery or start a sourdough TikTok—we can just bake bread for ourselves and keep getting better at it.
That’s all we’re ever really trying to do, isn’t it, just get a little bit better each day. It doesn’t mean that I’m going to suddenly become someone who seeks out new things in public, but it does mean that I’m more curious now. I’m curious to see how little tweaks can make something better, and I’m more patient with myself when it doesn’t go right the first time.
When I started baking sourdough bread, I didn’t expect it to inspire these existential musings on my life, so thank you for reading and supporting my random ramblings!
I hope I didn’t scare you away from baking sourdough, but if you’re interested in trying it too, here’s the recipe we used for the sourdough starter and the recipe we use for loaves (though we have since tweaked many parts of it to fit our specific kitchen and preferences!). I’m always happy to chat more about sourdough (though I don’t consider myself an expert at all) and can tell you what worked for us!
Wishing you all the five-star reads (and delicious sourdough loaves),
Katherine
Beautiful reflection, friend! Here’s to venturing out and trying the things that we really want, no matter how “good” at it we are! 🥂
Katherine!! I resonate so deeply with this. I too use Substack and my Bookstagram as ways to push myself out of my comfort zone. Recently, I've been trying to finally watch the movies and TV shows that have been on my list for years. May seem small, but it's one thing at a time, one promise kept. Love this!