I forgot to ask Vince to feed the sourdough starter when I left for Cape Town (it is usually fed weekly). By the time we both returned it had been starved for four weeks. But it frothed right up (above) after a snack of King Arthur Unbleached All-Purpose Flour and a little drink of nice Brooklyn tap water.
I made bread. So much more fun in September than in the humidity of summer. The dough is different, and the hot oven not so much like hell.
Our new kitchen is small but actually has more work surface than the one in Harlem - allowing me to leave the loaves to rise on the counter.
I baked them after the crisp-skinned roast chicken had been take from the oven.
One we eat now, one we slice, bag and freeze. Excellent toast.