Feeding Culture
My sour-dough culture is living in a bowl in the kitchen. I have lived with it for two weeks now, feeding it daily, smelling it, and looking for signs of life. I worry that it is too cold, or that I have forgotten to feed it. It smells strange, a yeasty slightly acrid smell. Sometimes I feel fond of it, proud of the culture that is growing there, the potential it holds. At other times it is a surly child, sulking and demanding my attention when I am busy with other things.
The language of bread cultures and their care is strange – another name for the starter culture is the ‘Mother’. But at the beginning, I am mothering my mother.
I am trying to judge whether my culture has reached maturity, and is ready for it’s first batch of bread-making.
