As some of you have been able to tell, I’m falling behind on new adventures. Well, holidays, work, guests and illnesses (pneumonia, strep, flu, etc) gave bogged me down.

I had planned on exploring this weekend, but the Denver/Boulder areas got a storm. Lots of snow after last weeks Arctic blast turned the snow into frozen tundra reminiscent of Arendelle because I thought for sure I saw talking a snowman and a sassy reindeer. This weekend, we stayed above 0 but, me personally, I received over 15 hours of active snow fall. On top of what was left from last weekend, I think I have like 7 or so inches. Some areas are deeper, drifts and the piles of snow from shoveling.

So, as I was exiled to the house, I decided I would make a soup I have always loved, but never had it made fresh. So I followed Ina Garten’s Italian Wedding Soup recipe. I did not have escarole, so I improvised with fresh spinach, and because I had made pizza for my granddaughter and I, I had fried and crumbled Italian pan sausage. I added that to the ground chicken to make the meatballs, something new for me. I sang really loudly while making them to distract myself from the fact that I was touching meat. Even with gloves on, it gives me the heebie-jeebies to touch raw meat. Not sure why, just always been that way. The soup turned out lovely and I will be adding it to my soup rotation. My kids have also asked for some and I have set aside a couple of quarts for them.

I think I added too much spinach, at least for my taste and I should have seared the meatballs just a minute or two longer, but it is a delicious and hearty soup, perfect for a snowy day.

The next new thing was another attempt at bread making. I know, I know, you’re thinking, Susan, you have tried this before with varying extremes of results. But this time it’s different. It’s sourdough. My daughter gave me a starter.

I have been wounded in the battle of bread making. I was leery of it, it made me nervous. I put the jar of starter in my fridge on Monday. On Wednesday, my daughter tells me that if I want to bake, I need to take it out and feed it and let it be warm. It sounded as if I would be caring for an infant. So, I waited a day and took it out on Thursday. My daughter told me that it needed a warm spot so it could grow and be ready to be fed. I put it on the tiny bit of counter space where I thought it would be warm, next to the refrigerator. I didn’t feed it until Saturday morning. I measured it out on a digital scale (as I was advised by my daughter it is a must, no measuring cups). Both bread flour and filtered water. I poured it into the starter slowly, I kept waiting for it to explode. It didn’t. Not at that point. It did eventually. Not like a bottle rocket (do they still make those?) but like, this:

I followed all of the instructions, and with encouragement from my daughter, I got this…and I was so nervous it was wrong, bad, unfixable….

But guess what? It’s supposed to look like this!

I feel like making this bread is the makings of a good sermon!

Sourdough bread doesn’t need to be kneaded, you do “stretch and folds”. I told my daughter that was how I used to put on pantyhose, stretching and folding. She didn’t think I was funny. 🤷‍♀️

I did my stretching and folding last night and let it sit overnight, covered with a dish towel. This morning, it looked a lot different!

I was so excited! I heated the oven and stuck my Dutch oven in to get preheated too. I pulled the dough out to shape it a bit and see if I could to that cutting on the top that I had seen picture of, and hopefully it won’t look like a kindergarten art project reject when it’s finished.

My house began to smell amazing! And I knew it would be hard to not dig into the bread. The timer buzzed and it was time for the moment of truth….

To tell you I am proud is an understatement. I exercised restraint and did not cut into it right away. I let it cool and then I sliced a big old hunk and warmed up some soup, tucked in with the fire going and watching Arsenic and Old Lace for the millionth time and enjoying memories of soup and bread my Mom would make and we would get to watch something fun on a snowy day.

The goal is 60 new things before I turn 60 and I have 14 more to go and I can’t wait!