Reviving sourdough starter

September has arrived and my first thought is that I need to revive that poor, tortured sourdough starter that my cousin gave me years ago. I love to bake sourdough bread during the fall and winter months, but spring and summer are too busy and too hot to bake. So, when the weather warms in April, the faithful starter gets pushed to a dark corner of the refrigerator where it slowly starves all summer. Every Autumn I rediscover the small mason jar with its greyish, lifeless mass and I begin to revive it. I break through the hardened crust to find a soft, sticky center that has been sitting patiently, conserving it’s fuel for this moment. I scoop out a small amount of the thick glue and rehouse it in a new, clean container. Twice a day I remove half of the starter, and feed the remaining portion some water and fresh flour. (The castoff starter is shared with our hens who get very excited at this new food offering.) It only takes a few days of attention before the forgiving starter is primed, bubbly, yeasty and ready to get back to work.

September always brings a renewed sense of purpose to our company. The farmers market is winding down, our garden is working on fall crops, the bees are busy sealing their honey for the winter, and we can turn our attention to the fall artisans fairs. Gary has several new projects going in the shop. This year he will introduce chessboards at the fairs. They are beautiful pieces of maple contrasting with padauk, purple heart, wenge and sapele. He is also working on new cutting board designs and bringing back some of his more popular designs. I have been working on new scents for my skincare line and am trying to stay ahead of the demand for my artisan soap. New from the studio this year is a line of light botanical sprays created to bring the therapeutic benefit of natural scents to our bodies, homes, yoga studios, vehicles, linens and workspaces.

cheers

-Kerry

September

The golden-rod is yellow;
The corn is turning brown;
The trees in apple orchards
With fruit are bending down.

The gentian’s bluest fringes
Are curling in the sun;
In dusty pods the milkweed
Its hidden silk has spun.

The sedges flaunt their harvest,
In every meadow nook;
And asters by the brook-side
Make asters in the brook …

~Helen Hunt Jackson