Today's stash from the library. (God, I love my local library. Struggling on against all the odds. Budget cuts by the Tories… Council neglect. What would my life have been without our public libraries?)
Pat Barker,
The Silence of the Girls
The women of Troy have their say.
Joan Breton Connelly,
The Parthenon Enigma
One for the train, the bus, the coffeeshop. Classical Greek Architecture… the love of my professional life.
Daljit Nagra,
Ramayana: A Retelling
Puts me in mind of Christopher Logue's astonishing translation of Homer's Iliad.
A lighter touch, but what I've read so far is fine indeed.
Brings back memories of fires at night on the beaches of Sri Lanka and Bali… music and dance.
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I suspect people often overthink bread making.
In the back of my fridge lives my sourdough starter… been around the world with me. 14 years old.
I bake very seldom, but a day or so before I need to, I take it out, pour off the liquid on top. Scrape the top layer, dollop a couple tablespoons into a fresh container and feed with some flours. Preferably a mix of interesting and organic and not just boring white.
Warmish water; and leave in a warmish place. And by evening it is feisty and risen and bubbly.
Another fresh feed and left over night. Ready to go the next morning.
Flour, water, salt, long rests between folding (none of this kneading the dough for hours…)
Form in their baskets, leave to proof. Out on the kitchen top if I need to bake that evening, or in the fridge over night.
Hottest oven you can imagine, an old quarry tile in the bottom.
Turn out on to the tile, slash with a blade… back into the oven.
Moisture. Spray with water a couple times early on.
40 minutes later.
Best bread in town.