Seven Days of (Sourdough) Creation

 In the beginning there was flour and water (with a little bit of malt and honey), and the sourdough starter was a formless mass.  The baker hovered over it and thought, "please let there be yeast!" and she hoped that it would be good.  There was darkness and light.  Together these made up the first day.

Then the baker saw that there were layers in the starter.  But she paid no attention.  She mixed in extra malt and honey with flour and water.  And she thought it could be good.  All this happened on the second day.

Then the baker saw that there were bubbles in the starter.  Carbon dioxide!  She knew that this was good, mixed in more flour and water... and then transferred the starter to a bigger bowl... on the third day.

At this time the bowl was teeming with all kinds of life.  The baker threw out half of the starter and added more fresh flour and water.  This completed the fourth day.

Then the baker saw that the instructions called for the addition of more flour and water.  She blinked twice in disbelief, then added it.  The bowl was overflowing with starter on the fifth day.  She put it in the refrigerator overnight.

Then the baker saw that it was time to make the firm.  She mixed 2 cups of unbleached bread flour with 2 cups of sourdough starter (and a small sprinkling of water to help it pull together).  She kneaded the mass until it formed a smooth dough and left it to rise for 8 hours at room temperature.  She stored it in the refrigerator overnight.  And she began to feel very tired on the sixth day.

In the morning, with the firm in hand, the baker set out to make sourdough.  She mixed the firm with 6 cups of unbleached bread four, 1 Tbsp. salt, 1 1/4 tsp. malt, and 2 cups of cool water.  She kneaded the dough.  And kneaded and kneaded.  Longer than ever before.  And tried unsuccessfully to replicate the windowpane test, so kneaded some more.  Then she let the dough rise for 6 hours (instead of 4, because she went fishing and lost track of time).  She punched the dough down and shaped it into three loaves and let them rise for 3 hours.  She fretted that they would not turn out and decided to bake two loaves that night (instead of putting them in the refrigerator until morning).   She scored the loaves and baked them, steaming them for maximum crustiness.

Then she pulled them out of the oven.  And as they were cooling she heard the most magnificent sound ever: crackling.  The bread was singing on its cooling rack!  She was pleased with her creation and saw that it was good.

So the creation of the starter and the firm and the loaves was completed.  And on the seventh day, having completed her task, the baker collapsed into bed, exhausted.  (Of course, she also got up early on the eighth day to cook the last loaf, but that's not really important in the end.)

This is the account of the creation of sourdough.