The Sourdough Experiment - Fun Thing #46

Aberystwyth continues to be the dull, disreputable, dinge-hole that various people seem to know and love. I am not one of them.

Pretty sunset. Horrible place.

I didn't give in gracefully to living in here - as my encyclopedic knowledge of pubs near train stations testifies. Recent events mean I'm here for good, so maybe it's time to embrace the experience. So far I've been attacked by seagulls, seen the camera obscura and museum, and become so drunk and disorientated that I've been lost in my own flat.... but surely there's more to this tiny little (woefully inadequate) town?

Enough of tangents, I shall sally forth and get to the point of this post....I made sour-dough: cue ominous music in the background.

Sour-dough, for those not in the dough know, is a special kind of bread that you deliberately let go mouldy before you bake it: so for sour read ... fecund. The brave can find a recipe (though not the one I used) here. It takes about a week to turn the ingredients into a bubbling, malty ooze, thankfully this is achieved by just leaving it be. Once the bubbly state has been accomplished you add more flour.

In theory this should leave you with about 3lbs of dough, but in reality it creates tremendous problems and unleashes the forces of chaos. This is not just any old dough, oh no! It is dough that contains so much life that it has developed a sense of generosity. Within seconds of trying to add more flour, the philanthropic bake-stuff will leap up and cover the baker liberally from head to foot.

If you must carry on, then scrape up whatever remains, kneed the hell out of it (to teach it a valuable lesson), and then leave it alone again (naturally). Bake the next day. Once cooled, cut a piece, eat, then pull a face because it really can be quite sharp.

When you have, made, baked and sampled your labours promptly feed them to someone else. Tell them you respect their refined taste if they seem lukewarm (or are otherwise informed on the perils of sourdough).

On a totally unrelated note - I've left Aber for a few days: I'm travelling with my bread, not unlike P.T Barnum and Jo-Jo the dog faced boy. Those who wish to sample may do so.