“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity ...” Though the drama occurring on my counter had little in common with Dickens’ Tale of Two Cities, I like to call it the tale of two sourdoughs. 

It had none of the book’s socioeconomic clashing of the French Revolution, and likewise none of the violent conflict, but it was a story of the outworking of the disparities and similarities of two sourdough starters that had been treated very differently. 

I may be dramatizing it a bit, or a whole lot, but you know these wild yeasts just can’t be tamed. They might ... rise ... over many hours.

My two sourdoughs — I’ll call them Nancy and Jake — actually came from the same source. I’ve long thought sourdough seems like my kind of thing and that I “should” be an aficionado, but it never happened. Because it’s me, of course I read up on it, researched various techniques, and baked with it a few times. I even made my own starter during my son’s very long 41st week in utero! But I only used “Doris” literally two or three times in the over two years since; just yesterday I retrieved the sad little jar from its lonely corner on the garage fridge door to finally take it out of its misery, its final resting place being the compost corner of the garden plot. It gave SOURdough a whole new meaning.

So yes, I’m familiar with sourdough, just as of yet I have not been dedicated enough to the cause. There are so many people in and out of my house to feed and take care of, why would I add some needy dough? 

I am, however, coming around. In a very lackadaisical sort of way. My first resurgence came when a friend offered me a batch of starter, to which I couldn’t say no. While I was excited to have Jake join my kitchen, I’m afraid I didn’t take very good care of him. I kind of figured, if he can’t handle my sourdough parenting style (meaning complete and utter neglect), then I’ll say goodbye and that’ll be the end of it. 

Unfortunately, or fortunately, I started baking sourdough things. I started off with “discard” recipes, meaning using some of the starter for its flavor and nutrition but not for its actual leavening or fermenting properties. English muffins, pancakes, brownies. I was breaking all the rules of sourdough, but I was getting good products, so it didn’t matter to me. 

When the same friend dropped off another round of starter a couple weeks ago, though, I realized how much I had been torturing Jake. One look at Nancy, the new one, told me I should take a little better care of my sourdough starters, especially now that I’m actually enjoying using them. 

Just for fun, to test the effects of my abuse, I made two side-by-side batches of simple sourdough pizza dough. Everything was exactly the same except for the starter portion (I had been feeding the older starter whole wheat, so it does look different), and you know what, they both made amazing pizza. While Nancy definitely had more energy and leavening, Jake contributed more tang and funk, which I loved. I baked a loaf of bread this morning (after mixing it up yesterday noon), having used half of each starter; it rose beautifully, and the flavor and chew are addictive. 

So how does my tale of two sourdoughs end? I’m not sure. I’m encouraged to know my laissez-faire approach to sourdough doesn’t keep me out of the game, and hopeful that my current good intentions will keep my starters alive and well for at least a while. I guess we’ll see. 

Sourdough Pizza Dough

Pizza dough is a great first step into the foray of sourdough-ing, as you don’t have to worry nearly as much about leavening, shaping, inner crumb, etc. You also don’t have to think about it the day ahead, which is sometimes the hardest part, as you can get this started mid-morning and have it be ready in plenty of time for supper. And don’t forget, the vast majority of time is spent letting the dough rest, so don’t feel like you need to baby-sit it ... in my experience, it’s more forgiving than you might anticipate. 

Prep tips: I want to give you substitutions for the sourdough starter in case you don’t have a friend stopping by with some, but that would defeat the purpose of providing a sourdough recipe. That said, just Google it if you want that tang but don’t have any starter — or just make regular pizza dough. 

1 cup sourdough starter 

1 ½ cups warm water

5-6 cups all-purpose flour (can use some whole-wheat)

1 tablespoon salt

1 tablespoon brown sugar

1 teaspoon baking soda

cornmeal for sprinkling

In a large mixing bowl, thoroughly whisk starter, water, and 3 cups flour. Cover with plastic wrap and let rest for 4-24 hours. 

Meanwhile, mix 2 cups flour with salt, brown sugar, and baking soda; then mix this into the sourdough mixture. Knead, adding flour as necessary, to get a nice dough. Oil the bowl and return the dough to let rise, covered, for 2-4 hours. Sprinkle two rimmed baking sheets with cornmeal. Divide the dough in half, then press/roll out to shape, and transfer to prepared pans. Let rise for another 1-2 hours. Top as desired, and bake for about 15 minutes at 425°.

Amanda Miller lives with her husband, almost-two-years-old son, and whoever else God brings them through foster care on the family dairy farm in Hutchinson. She enjoys doing some catering, teaching cooking classes, and freelancing, but mostly chasing after her kid(s). Reach her at hyperpeanutbutter@gmail.com.