RecipeMuncher

Almost a month ago, I embarked on a culinary journey that would make most wise bakers give pause.  A crusty loaf of French sourdough seems simple enough, right?   It calls for no yeast - how hard could it be?  As jealously insecure as a fourth wife whose husband just hired a 20 year old former Playmate as his new secretary, a sourdough starter is demanding, insisting you look at it rise and carefully watch for it to fall. You must then refresh the dough, kneading in new flour to the sticky mess, only to have to repeat the ritual two days later.  This process lasts longer than most Hollywood marriages and by the time you graduate on to the actual bread making, you already intimately aquainted its tempermental nature.

Which is exactly why I knew deep down that this was not going to work out.  I should have gone with my instinct and drawn up the pre-nup papers since I knew I wasn’t ever going to make my planned grilled paninis with it.  But just lik…