Ducks & Canadian Geese in the Winter
Back to the sourdough. I’ve been surprised to find no fuzzy sweater, or even t-shirts, growing on the bread after long stints in the cupboard. The loaves stay soft a whole lot longer than the store bought ones; I doubt I’ve ever had a fresh bakery loaf last more than a day or two. So when I pulled out the loaf I made 10-days ago I expected it to be revolting. It wasn’t. It was firm on the outside but after filleting it like a fish and a very close eyeball and nose inspection I decided all it needed was some re-hydrating. French toast! I soaked that bad boy in a mixture of 2 organic eggs and a 1/4 cup of cream while I heated up a pan with a small knob of butter. The end result made me feel for a few moments that I was back in France. The whole grains in the bread produced a denser texture and nuttier flavour; the staleness of the bread re-hydrating with the eggs and cream making an almost custard / bread pudding-like decadent French toast. Topped with a bit of my Fallen Applesauce and some Vermont maple syrup, I gobbled up my breakfast before even leaving the kitchen and found myself with the overwhelming urge to lick the plate. Who knew I would be left with such a satisfied belly, sugar high, and the French CBC on the radio? All this from a 10-day old sourdough remnant. I suppose I will have to continue on with my weekly bread making adventure for a while longer. Winter is coming and stale bread in my house is no longer only for the birds.








