Sourdough School with Good Luck Bread

I am so excited to announce my first sourdough bread baking workshop!

Whether you’re new to bread baking or using natural leavening, or you’ve dabbled in sourdough and want to get better, I’ve designed a class that will give you the hands-on experience, knowledge and confidence you need to bake outstanding bread at home.  

RSVP here! Space is limited.

If you know me, you know that I’m a teacher and I love to share. Since launching this site, I’ve been thinking about how to share my favorite sourdough bread method. I’ve been baking a version of this bread every weekend for several years now, and through that journey I’ve learned a lot. I’ve thought about typing up my recipe (and someday I probably will), but at this point that task feels a bit overwhelming. Like any good teacher, I want to meet you where you are and I want you to succeed. Writing a good recipe is all about making the right assumptions about how much background knowledge the reader has. If you’re an experienced baker, sharing my recipe could be as simple as sharing a sentence- a baker’s percentage and a rough timeline. If you’re new to this, however, you need more information. (There’s a reason why Chad Robertson’s recipe in Tartine is 38 pages long!)

At my workshop, you’ll of course get a detailed recipe packet. In addition, you’re going to see, smell, and touch the dough at various stages. You’ll also be able to ask questions when I’ve assumed too much background knowledge, or if you’re looking to make adaptations. Most importantly, you’re going to practice the trickier bread baking steps while I cheer you on. We’ll also have fun and eat snacks.

I’ve found so much joy, patience, and satisfaction in baking bread. Beyond the numbers and technique, this is the aspect of baking bread I want to share with you the most.

It might sound over-the-top, but whenever I reach for language to describe this part of my life, I pull words that evoke religion*. Bread baking is a ritual. At certain moments the steps are tedious, but they add a comforting rhythm to my week. The steps culminate in a kind of alchemy- flour, water and salt transform into something that is beautiful, complex, and nourishing. Every Sunday morning, I leave my sleeping partner and cat to bake bread in peace. The kitchen is so quiet you can hear the bread crackling as it cools. In the evening, I bring the bread to the table and break it with my family and friends.  I don’t think there’s much more to life than that.

*This could also be blamed on my Comparative Religion degree-- my go-to essay thesis was to argue that the topic in question was, by definition, a religion.

Another tenant of my religion is eating cookies for breakfast.

I hope you join me at sourdough school!