Kitchen Captives

Two weeks ago,  Husband ordered some sourdough starter from King Arthur Flour. Until this point he had been a haphazard, sourdough self starter, making a starter and then discarding it when he felt like it. This time, he bought a deceptively small container with about a tablespoon of starter in it. It has held us captive ever since it arrived.

Husband followed the instructions for starter care religiously. This meant refreshing the starter ever 6-8 hours the first couple of days. This involved taking  4 ounces of  the growing  starter to which you add 4 ounces of flour and 4 ounces of water. You discard any starter beyond the 4 ounces, saving the discard for pancakes and waffles, or whatever else you want.  There are only so many sourdough waffles, pancakes, and biscuits a person can consume every day.

Last weekend we made 10 loaves of a variety of breads. Our freezers are full. I feel trapped in my kitchen by this demanding starter. It reminds me of the man eating plant in Little Shop of Horrors.  It is like having a new pet in the house. Husband says he will freeze the starter soon to bring peace and serenity to our home.

What responsibility have you taken on that you have come to regret?

 

19 thoughts on “Kitchen Captives”

  1. I was once treasurer for a tiny non-profit, my dragon boat team. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have signed on for that. The bookkeeping wasn’t that complicated, but the organization didn’t own any software, so I just put everything on spreadsheets, which didn’t sit well with the previous treasurer, who was an accountant. I was very happy to finish out my term after three years.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. This was similar to my experience keeping charge of the gymnastics books for 2 years. I did everything on Excel, got the mess that was dumped on me all cleaned up and nagged everyone until they were all paid up. And the accountant who took over whined about my spreadsheet design!!

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  2. Rise and Shine Baboons,

    I did the Sour Dough thing years ago, and regretted it, especially the “sour dough bat”. I have not had any sour dough for decades because of that experience. At the time I was just married and had a tiny kitchen in an old, large Victorian house where we lived in what was once the ballroom. My MIL at the time gave us some starter with the copied instructions about how to maintain it, which was pure drudgery similar to what you describe, Renee. We had roommates, at times, that were bats. These required tennis racquet action to usher them out of the apartment through the hallway or an open window.

    We started hearing an alarming hissing sound indicating another bat. The bat was not hiding in any of the usual places, and seemed to be coming from the kitchen, which was seeming to be bat free. This went on for weeks, while I experimented with the sour dough, making breads, rolls, pancakes and waffles with it. I was not crazy about the sour dough taste. Finally one day I located the hissing bat sound as gas escaping from the lid of the sour dough jar. No bat. No more sour dough, either– enough of that putsy-ness.

    I often regret taking on responsibility of any kind once it becomes too tight. And then I adjust and do fine with it if I can maintain it. Just not the sour dough.

    Liked by 5 people

  3. The Amish Friendship Bread I bake is similar. I’m not sure it’s exactly ‘sourdough’, but I created the starter from milk, flour and sugar a few years ago. It’s not nearly that fussy then only requiring daily stirrings but the baking every 10 days (or thereabouts).
    I don’t start it until sometime in late November when i know I’ll have time to deal with it. And by march I’m tired of baking bread and I put it back in the fridge.

    Kelly is part of a group. When it started she wanted to stay involved with the people and we thought it would be a good opportunity. it’s turned into just a pain in the rear and she can’t wait for this final year to be over.

    I think perhaps the math classes I took were like that; its seemed like a good idea at the time. Sort of like home remodeling projects. They were good Ideas when we started them.

    I’m taking ‘Intro to Economics this semester. I know the teacher; nice guy and I know the family from our neighborhood. It’s sort of a ‘Whole Earth’ kinda class where Saving the rainforests, being a good person, and ‘Not putting off until tomorrow’ are all mixed in with economics. Which, in a sense, they probably really are.

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  4. Oh let me count the ways. I just got out my hand-written “spread sheet” and realize I need to start mapping out fall commitments… Mostly I’ve fine with what I signed up for, except when too many things are required close together – it seems to occur sort of like an accordion playing…

    The hard part of helping our friend W is not so much the time actually doing stuff, but sort of psychically taking on decision making. He’s not got dementia at this point, just some memory loss, but his thinking has slowed way down. Since he can’t really read now, I feel I should present him with all the alternatives from here on out, help him make these decisions. It’s a lot to take on. Recently re-read Atul Gawande’s Being Mortal which is helping me clarify priorities.

    Liked by 3 people

  5. I had a couple of presentations this summer than I took on that until they were done I was not sure, once I had said yes, that I really should have done. The last of these was yesterday – and it went swimmingly. I am glad to have done it and now have a good slide deck with good content should I need it again.

    Next thing I might regret is taking on “stand in temporary coordinator” for a volunteer program (the music appreciation/history curriculum I have helped out with since Darling Daughter was in kindergarten). The regular coordinator is out of the country for the start of the school year, so I agreed that I could get things rolling… I may regret that later. But I also didn’t want the wheels to come off the program as I know it’s a good one.

    Liked by 3 people

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