That’s my first successful sourdough bread loaf, made from scratch with just flour, water, salt and the sourdough starter that was, yep, made by me.
Am I just a teensy bit proud that this loaf would not kill ducks if you threw it at them?
Why, yes. Yes I am.
Am I grateful that the boys didn’t seem to mind that some loaves required a chainsaw to cut through the crust and consumed all previous loaves?
Am I happy that it only took approximately eight weeks of persevering through making a loaf every week to finally get one that worked?
Did I make EVERYONE who came into the house yesterday marvel at and admire my lovely, fluffy, delicious bread?
I really did.
Am I concerned that I don’t actually know what I did differently to get this loaf right and lay awake at night fearing I’ve reached the pinnacle of perfection and it’s all downhill from here?
Just a little …