Tonight, to celebrate our wedding anniversary, I made mushroom soup from genuine field mushrooms (instead of those pale imitations from the supermarket), and sourdough bread. And, yes, I made the bread too. Served hot enough to melt the butter, fresh from the oven; crusty and aromatic with yeasts. Life is good. It was a bit like having everyone around for dinner, even though we dined alone.
How so? I made the starter for the sourdough from kefir from a culture given to me by our neighbour who was given the culture from some Dutch people back in the late 1940s – the culture has been nurtured for some 60(+) years. I made the starter, and then made the bread – without recipes – just based on seeing Mum make bread, my intuition, and trust that it´d work out right. I made a test loaf yesterday and Mum was keen to sample it. She thought it was very good. Marica´s folks had been over for lunch and they gave my dough the once over to see it was ok. The mushrooms came as a combination – raw ones from our friend Taffy, and some my sister Gillian had cooked for us. It felt really great that so many people had helped put together the meal – even if all I did was cook it. I´ve seen it said that it takes a village to raise a child – I think that is probably very true, however, it takes a village to support a marriage, and a village to put food on your table as well. People, who need people.