Flour, Water, Yeast

Becca, since she got home and realized that she had access to a Real! Live! Kitchen!, has been cooking up a storm. So yesterday she and I went to a class at Sour Flour, an artisan baking school, which was held at La Victoria bakery in the Mission. The class focused on sourdough starter--the making, the keeping, the feeding, the using thereof. It was fun, hands-on (what's the point of dough if you don't get hands-on, I ask you?) and each of us got a dollop of a 6-year-old starter (named Dulce) which we fed with water and flour, to perpetuate the line. We each named our starters: mine is Magda (I don't know why. She just is.) and Becca's is Trust Fund Baby.

Trust Fund Baby. I love my child. She may be weirder than I am.

Then we made flatbread, since there wasn't time for a full rest-and-rise cycle for bread. I may have to go back for the bread class--it's not that I don't know a lot of this stuff, but there are techniquest I'd never come upon before.

And last but not least, we got to finish and eat our flatbread, which was dinner last night. And it was, as the photographic evidence suggests, gooooood.