Dumpsters and friends.
Two months or so ago I went into the Village Baker and asked if I could buy some of their sourdough starter, figuring I was being polite and that they'd probably just give me some. Instead, I was told "sure, $1500 an ounce; that's what we paid for our French levain." I'd noticed that they throw out raw dough sometimes, but only now that I have a place to culture it did it occur to me to palpate, sniff and take home a little bag during my last late-night forage (I was getting bagels for Jeff, who mentioned during dinner that he wanted bagels for breakfast and that he'd forgotten to get some). It smelled a little vinegary, but I added two cups of water and two cups of rye flour and now I have a quart jar bubbling away happily and smelling delicious.
Injera, anyone? Sourdough challah? Endless possabilities...
I wouldn't have made that trip had Jeff not invited me for dinner and music. I'm making good friends, and so he got brownies, too. And
kira_dancing is coming to visit Tuesday! Don't worry, Kira, all of my friends get chocolate. Maybe sourdough, too.
More surprises to come.