Do you have a pet?
A dog or cat you board when traveling?
Or ask someone to come in to feed?
Take walking while you’re away?
A turtle or lizard?
A tank of exotic fish?
I have none of those.
But, I do have a pet residing with me.
Requiring care when I vacation.
What kind? you ask.
My colony of yeast.
Quietly bubbling for over thirty-five years.
Flavoring breads, crackers.
Asking little of me when I leave.
Except for food to tide it over.
So, the night before, I remove some sourdough.
Mix a cup of flour with water till smooth.
Stir it gently into the pitcher.
Letting it sit a few hours on the counter.
To digest its meal.
Burp carbon dioxide, alcohol.
Then gently place it in the refrigerator.
To slow its metabolism.
For a week or several.
Depending on my plans.
Once home, I rush to greet my pet.
Like any pet owner would.
Pull the jar from the cold.
Inspect the hooch.
The gray liquid ringing the container.
The voice of hungry yeast.
Ravenous, begging to eat.
Gently, I stir it from the bottom.
Mix a little flour, water.
Fold it in.
Reassure that soon, I’ll bake.
Remove a cup to a bowl.
Make a sponge to rise overnight.
Start a loaf the next day.
Give the sourdough in the pitcher
a welcome meal to devour.
Yummy flour and warm water
to increase its frothy power!
Lynn Benjamin
March 1, 2024
