Thanks to the farmers who come in to town, I know the people who gather the eggs and milk the goats to make cheese. Thanks to my friend Jess, who left a tub of sourdough starter on my porch Friday morning, and my inspiration to make dough to rise overnight between dinner with neighbors and going to bed, I have homemade sourdough bread. With such a fairly wet and very active chef, it was pretty successful to do a sort of hybrid of the New York Times’ no knead bread, which I kneaded, but not for 10-15 minutes, and Martha Rose Shulman’s no-yeast sourdough country bread (in Great Breads).
I went out back to make preparations for the storm. This included constructing protected space around the basement windows. I’d hesitated for years to give away the sheet plexiglass I’d used in a single artist show in the late 1990s. Every time I did a cleaning, I’d hold on to the plexiglass. Now I know why.
There was a little bit of kale and a few spring onions. They were sweet from having been frozen.