A Date

(Warning: The following post contains more than my usual two photographs. If poor photography frightens you, avert your eyes after reading.)

A couple of months ago a friend texted me with an intriguing way of capturing wild yeast for bread baking. I was curious for many reasons. First, it was not the traditional sourdough method that everybody and their kitty cat is posting on social media. Secondly, it seemed less labor intensive than the sourdough method. And, best of all, it wouldn't demand a lifetime of sourdough starter guilt and babysitting.

That being said, there was certainly a learning curve for me as I explored the process with two steps forward and one step backwards, on a good day. The basics are relatively simple: water, a little sugar, a little salt and dried dates. Mix, shake and place in a warm place to let the magic happen. If all goes well, the wild yeast on the dried fruit will be activated and the yeast babies start munching away on the sugar in the water, thus creating fizzy bubbles (a.k.a. carbon dioxide) as a byproduct and voila, a leavening agent is born.

The development of the yeast water should have taken about ten days. Unfortunately, it took about a month for me as I killed the first round of yeast and had to start over again. In defense of myself, the directions for developing yeast water are difficult to pin down on the internet and I found myself mashing together information from multiple sites. The bulk of my information came from a leader in baking products, King Arthur Flour. The instruction that killed the yeast was "use tap water." As I faithfully waited for bubbles to form in my bottle of date water, it became clear that all I had created was a bottle of murky water with chunks of dates floating in it. Not a pretty sight or very effective. 

In my second attempt I substituted bottled water for tap water and bingo, wild yeast action was born. I am assuming my tap water brought a dose of yeast killing chlorine to the party. Sorry, yeast babies. Ten days with my new mixture produced the coveted yeast water and the bread baking process could begin. If I thought making yeast water came with sketchy instructions, making the bread was like spelunking in a cave passage with a sketchy map and a finicky flashlight. King Arthur suggested using a sourdough recipe, substituting yeast water for the usual sourdough starter. After three rounds of that process, it was clear that I needed a lot  more practice and perhaps a little bit of hand holding for any hope of complete success. It wasn't a complete crash and burn, however. The resulting bread was usually tasty with just a hint of fruitiness. My struggle was in the correct ratio of flour to yeast water and most of all, shaping a round loaf. Sourdough recipes involve linen towels, fancy baskets, parchment paper, pizza stones and bread slashing tools. My bread baking has always involved one tool, a loaf pan.

I will spare you the gory details but suffice it to say, towels were ruined, embedded parchment paper had to be dug out of dough blobs and a piece of my favorite stoneware needed to be scrubbed for an unspeakable length of time. Call me crazy but I am too stubborn to pour my precious yeast water down the drain. And thus, I persevere.

The good news is that I stumbled on a video about yeast water that was posted fairly recently (Mary's Nest). The perky little homemaker in the video has a personality that is part kindergarten teacher and part cheerleader, goading us all onward to a more "traditional kitchen". She provides step-by-step instructions for creating yeast water and most importantly, making bread from said water in a far more streamlined manner. The bad news is that the ratios didn't work out for me and I am back to the drawing board.

Thankfully, I have been able to salvage some of the bread along the way. We eat a little bit of it fresh and the rest goes in the freezer. The sturdy bread makes crispy, crunchy toast for breakfast and delicious french toast for any time. My yeast water lives on and lessons continue to be learned.

Cast of characters

Repurposed plastic vinegar bottle. Misshapen due to a nitwit move on my part.

Brownish colored yeast water with date floaties.

Miracle moment when yeast water and flour produces a bubbly leavening after 16 hours.

I loved this towel. Past tense. 

This beauty had the heft of a door stop and the texture to match.  

     

Pockets of raw flour after parchment incident. Good grief.

   

Lots of bubble action from the yeast babies. 

Beluga whale or a case of over proofing? Answer in next picture. 

     

A small child could get lost in this air pocket.

   

Tasty. 

Bottle It

Those of us living in the upper Plains are accustomed to the vagaries of weather. One moment we are bundled up in sweaters to combat a chill in the air. Later in the day, we are digging in our closets for a T-shirt as the weather turns warm and balmy. The next day we are checking the rain gauge as precipitation accumulates. The winds can be ferocious or gentle. We are prepared for wild swings between below freezing weather and toasty warmth. And, once in a while, we are treated with a Goldilocks Day, a day that is just right.

As I write this post, it is just such a day. My windows are wide open in an attempt to capture the goodness. The humidity is low so the breeze is not bringing wilting air into the house. The temperature is in a comfortably cool range so the air conditioner does not have to run and the furnace is not needed. The sun is shining which gives an energizing boost to plants and people alike. We've had a few spring rains so our trees are now in full foliage and the lawns are plush, no sprinklers required.

Open windows give access to full sound. The birds are oh so active in the spring, flirting with each other and singing their intricate songs. The black-capped chickadees call and respond with their distinctive fee-bee, fee-bee vocalization. Their repertoire also includes the chickadee-dee-dee sound that lets me know they are munching at one of my bird feeders. The ping, ping sound on my pan feeder signals the arrival of a larger bird with a sturdy beak pecking away, such as a blackbird or cowbird. The delicate chip-chip of the little chipping sparrow always makes me smile as they bounce along on my deck, pecking at stray seeds. The scritchy scratchy sounds on the bark of my front yard tree usually means a couple of squirrels are playing tag up and down and all around. The most entertaining song of all is that of the handsome cardinal. Scientists believe cardinals have about sixteen different calls but the most recognizable is their robust birdie-birdie-birdie song. They can also belt loose with beautiful warbles that would be difficult to put down as notes on a piece of sheet music. They are a choir director's dream with their strong projection and perfect pitch.

Open windows also mean full fragrance. The blossoming trees and bushes release their perfume in ways that can be pleasant or pungent. Lilac blooms have a sickly sweet smell to me, albeit their colors are stunning. Flowering crab trees display their pink flowers with a more delicate fragrance. Freshly cut grass lends a herbaceous note to the mix. And as the day wanes, the smoky smell of the neighbor's fire pit signals the start of an evening worthy of sitting outdoors (for my neighbors, not me. I'm more indoorsy). The relative absence of pesky bugs makes it a perfect night.

I wish I could say the upcoming forecast is just as glamorous as this day but it looks like we are in for some summer heat, not my cup of tea. This is also the time of year for turbulent weather patterns which can result in violent storms, also not my cup of tea. It would be nice to bottle up the good days and release their contents as needed. Lacking that option, it is best to drink deeply when you can and savor the moment.