My Little Bundle of CO2 and Alcohol
My friend at work was making rosemary and grape focaccia for a banquet tomorrow and I was working on my pastry stuff when he brought me a little bundle of starter. I was quite surprised, I didn't see that coming. My surprise quickly changed to happiness and excitement because I have often thought about starting my own starter, but never got around to it. Then, through the dazed expression and daydreams of breadmaking, it happened. I realized that I'm responsible for this little bundle. I have to make sure I feed it daily (it is so small) and take care of it or it will die. It'll be a while before I will have enough to make anything, so we're talking weeks of care. That was when I got nervous. Daily feedings. Making sure it doesn't get too hot, then moving it to the fridge for weekly feedings. I don't have a good memory. I'm doing well if I can remember to wash my face and brush my teeth. Once I forget deodorant. How? I have no idea. Woke up late and was in a hurry? I don't take the pill; I never remember. I don't take vitamins, I don't have a pet. I have no children. My plants have to cry out to me (I usually see them when I gaze out the window; I notice the bamboo when I'm watching tv). You get the point; unless it's right in front of my face, or in the case of my cell phone, beeps to tell me to charge it, I'll forget it. Please pray for Rosie. Yes, I've named it. Maybe by naming my starter, I'll remember to take care of it? I don't know. I can hardly wait to start baking bread though.
I went for sushi with my friend a few nights ago. It was our second time at Sushi Para II. I'm late in posting. I didn't eat much since I'd eaten before she'd called me. I had some clear soup with crab meat and seaweed, and three pieces; crab, eel, and I can't remember the third. I also had a couple of things off of her plate. At the end of dinner, all I could smell was wasabi. The trick to eating it is don't inhale when you take a bite, and exhale through your nose. Works for me.