Yesterday morning, I separated into pans then put them in the oven to rise with only the light on. (Given that we are in the middle of snowpocolypse the house is cold!)
When I got home last night, I had four perfectly risen loaves like the one on the right. But along the way two of them fell. (Ben said that I let them rise about two hours too long and that you have to be careful in shifting them from one place to the next.)
I made these loaves per recipe with white flour. This weekend I plan to experiment with whole wheat. Ben tells me this is science. (I asked him not to say that because I suck at science.)
John and I wrapped the two perfect loaves up and drove them to friends' houses last night to share the joy. I got a text from David-the-Artist-Pastor who said it rocked with Ugandan honey.
Of course, the best part is that the starter is the gift that keeps on giving. To keep it alive, you have to go through this process every two weeks.
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