3 Unexpected Lessons I Learned Making Sourdough Bread

Ever tried to make sourdough bread? It’s not easy! But the process taught me a few life lessons that made most of the frustrations worth it.

~ anon gray

The ever daunting task of learning to bake sourdough bread is legit!

The websites and tutorials might say it’s easy. But I’m here to tell you that I’ve done it and it’s not. Perhaps for an avid baker it’s easier. But that’s not the same thing as saying something is easy.  

I must say, I thought of giving up several times during the process.  But what kept me going through each failed starter, and each missed feeding, and each failed loaf, was this: for every disaster, I learn something. And not just about sourdough bread.  

I learn about life.  

That’s right! The process of learning to bake sourdough bread taught me important lessons that apply outside the kitchen. These lessons were not new revelations, but they were most certainly unexpected. And what I’ve found in life is that sometimes those unexpected lessons end up being the most valuable.

So here are three of my biggest takeaways from my efforts to learn how to bake sourdough bread:

1. Be Patient: good things take time, and if you rush, it will be flat and gooey. 

I’m an incredibly impatient person in some respects, and eerily patient in other respects.  But when I get into a snit about an end product, I tend to be extra impatient.  In my minds eye I can see where I want to be and it’s beyond aggravating to not be there right now.  But as is always the case, the more I rushed the process, the more it fell apart.  I stood there yelling at my starter, “FINE, Have it your way!  Just sit there and bubble all you want.  See what I care.”  Then I walked away and gave it the silent treatment.  As is often the case in my life, that’s when things began to turn around.  I’m not saying the loaves were pretty, but at least they were edible!

The lesson?!  Any time we hyper focus on the outcome (ahem, obsess) it adds more stress to our lives than is necessary, and often we discover that we could’v gotten to the same end had we just been more patient.

2. If you mess up, you can always begin again: just because we fail at something doesn’t mean we are failures. 

Day in and day out I poured heaps of my starter down the sink.  Not enough bubbles, too many, too stinky, etc.  I didn’t understand the process or how to keep it going.  I would turn to my husband and say, “I just want to give up.”  He’d look at me, knowing this is rarely my habit (giving up that is) and say, “then do it.  Just give up.”  It was like he was taunting me!

I’d turn back to the computer screen and research my eyeballs blue until bedtime and close the laptop feeling deflated and frustrated.  It felt like everyone else in the world could figure this out but me!  For a few days I decided that it was because I had failed.  That I was incapable of discovering the secrets to making sourdough bread.  To be honest, I moped for a good part of two days as a result.  Inevitably, I went back at it again.  I do hate it when my husband is right.

The lesson?!  Just because we fail at something doesn’t mean we are failures.  If we’re honest with ourselves, failure usually means one of two things: a) We didn’t really want it all that badly, or b) we haven’t acquired the necessary skills to be good at it, yet. 

Both of these possibilities were addressable and more importantly, neither of them were a reflection of my character.  The perfectionist in me is screaming as I say that, but it’s true!  Failure is no reason to give up, despite the voices in our heads that tell us otherwise.  Failure is simply an indicator that we either need to gain more skills at something or be brutally honest with ourselves about how much we really want something. 

So which was it for me?  Read on to revelation #3!

3. When it doubt, put it on ice: hitting pause is okay.  Step back and take a breath. 

I love homemade crusty sour-y bread.  Every time I make it (not with the sourdough recipe, mind you) it’s delicious, it rises beautifully, and it’s gone in about 12 hours.  It’s easy and it’s a process I love because I could do it in my sleep.  After all, I’ve been baking this particular loaf since before I was married (over 14 years ago) and I’ve got it down to a science.

When I literally put my starter ‘on ice‘ (in the fridge), it made space for me to think about why I was making sourdough bread in the first place, and I came up with two reasons: 1) my neighbor offered me some starter, and 2) our current country of residence has been out of yeast for the past several months!

Wait.  That meant, I didn’t actually want to learn to make sourdough bread!  I love the stuff, but the process by which to make it has never interested me.  No, the real reason I had invested in this sourdough starter was my lack of yeast to make my actual favorite loaf, and a lack of yeast is a temporary situation.  I didn’t have to feel guilty about killing off so many starters, or even being bad at making sourdough bread.  It had been something I fell into and wasn’t a legit priority for me. More importantly, that was okay!

The Lesson?!  Hitting pause helps give us space to reassess the why and allows us be thoughtful about our decisions. 

For the time being, I’m going to keep experimenting with sourdough starter (still no yeast here). But I’m not gonna kill myself to learn to make the perfect sourdough loaf. When yeast is available again, I’ll go back to my regular baking: it fits my schedule and it’s delicious. Why mess with a good thing right?!

Sometimes we can get so wrapped up in the doing that we forget the why we even started.  Taking a step back and getting some space can help us decide if we are putting our time and energy where we want to.  Sourdough bread may not be where I’m putting my time and energy right now, but it’s not for lack of effort or ability.  It’s simply not a priority. And I’m happy to say that my starter is quietly sleeping in the fridge, and we’re back on speaking terms. No hard feelings.

I may have embarked on a journey to discover my inner sourdough master baker, but what I actually took away from the experience was far more valuable (though not as tasty). Life provides so many hidden opportunities to learn and grow and when we can be open to them, we feel more free to live our lives according to our beliefs and values – guilt and judgement free.

So be a passionate sourdough baker, or be proud to love your store-bought Wonder Bread. It doesn’t really matter either way.  Just make sure you’ve put some thought into the why and you’ll be just fine.

---

Subscribe below and get weekly updates about new posts, plus my monthly e-letter where I’m a bit more intimate.

First Name

Email address:

Leave this field empty if you’re human: