The last day in the life of my sourdough
sourdough jars in my fridge (and bacon grease)
I did something today I only had to do once before! And a tragic day it was in the life of my jar of sourdough. I never considered myself a collector of sourdoughs but much to my husbands dismay there was an arsenal of sourdough jars occupying the top shelf of our refrigerator. With enough ‘hooch’ on them to put an army of Lamanites into a drunken stupor. For all of you still sourdough-ignorant bakers out there (and we will change this pretty presto), hooch is the liquid that forms on top of your sourdough once it’s been lazily sitting around for a while. And it is potent, pure alcohol. Well, I don’t know how pure , but let’s just say it is not something you would want to ingest unless you are a desperate alcoholic.
So, I assured my husband that I would take care of of minimizing the number of jars occupying the top shelf of our refrigerator the following day. However, he then pulled out one of the jars that only had a plastic wrap cover on top and pronounced: “This one is bad!” If you have ever smelled a bad sourdough you will understand why that comment struck fear in the heart of this otherwise courageous baker!
And this is where I want to tell you about another time when I had to bury a good friend of mine, my friend the sourdough, who had been neglected unto death by our former cleaning lady whilst we were on holiday in Alaska. And by the time we came home we could smell the stench of my decomposing friend upon entry into the garage. It was the most horrible smell you can imagine!!! And my friend, the sourdough, was dead! It was a very sad day for me and I wanted retribution! I am sure you will be as dismayed as I was upon hearing that in the State of California you are not able to prosecute someone for “neglect of sourdough onto death”. I was so outraged by this that I decided it was time for me to obtain my American citizenship so I could vote and help change the laws regarding sourdough in the State of California!
Well, this was about ten years ago and I just now last week submitted my application for citizenship. What does that tell you about me or my committment to my dead friend? (You don’t need to answer that question, it was purely rethorical).
Anyway, the jar that my husband pulled out ended up being of scientific interest to me. Because the sourdough itself wasn’t bad (it did NOT stink) but there was mold on the hooch! Never seen that happen before. But I was not going to take any chances. So, since I have a whole arsenal of sourdough jars occupying the top shelf of my refrigerator, I did not need to hang on to this particular one and just poured it down the drain. Good thing I hadn’t helped change the laws in the State of California or I would be the one sitting on death row now after having been prosecuted and found guilty for “neglect of sourdough”. See, procrastination can be a good thing!
And as far as the last day in the life of my sourdough…, it was very uneventful… and cold.
Over and out.