Sometimes life gets busy and the dough that is rising just keeps on a risin’.
I mixed up some sourdough last evening, forgetting that I’d be away all day on a field trip to the zoo with 40 munchkins. When I returned, I didn’t even look in the kitchen, I headed straight for my pillow.
The nap ended and here’s when I emphatically said, Oh, dear!
16 hours on the rise, that batch of sourdough was losing steam. I quickly dumped it out, shaped it into a ball,
heated the oven and a half hour later popped it into a super hot pot.
And, voila! Who said baking has to be a perfectly timed, measured and calculated event?
And it’s never to late to share when you have a house full of Arizona guests, happy to flee from their summer heat. Tonight it will sit all lonely on the cutting board–for the Capo Chef is making pizza. But tomorrow–oh, tomorrow! it will make some amazingly delicious French toast, don’t you think?
The Woman and the Wheat 
I love the forgiving nature of Sourdo’s slowness! I’ve got to pop over and get some started from you! Maybe next week?
That’s a gorgeous crust, by the way. Enjoy the French toast!
Beth–if you’re in town over the next few days, I will bring some by for you. I’m often up in your part of the world and would love to share with you.
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