I relate to this food

I never expected to personally relate to food. Not to a person eating. Not even to anthropomorphized food a la Sausage Party (why oh why is that my first example .. ). Just to, you know, food. And not even finished food. To a sourdough starter.

I came to this realization in a very roundabout way because as I finished this book, gave it its all-too-necessary Goodreads 5 stars, and moved to this review, my first thought was: “This is why I read. This is why I am such a voracious reader. This is why I chew through books the way I do.” and I realized that when it comes to the written word, I – like the aforementioned sourdough starter – am just always so fucking hungry.

This is a weird, wonderful little book. I’m trying to describe it to my friends to convince them that they should read it to, that it is delightful and so utterly worth their time, and I keep coming back to those two adjectives – weird and wonderful.

Short and sweet summary: Lois is a computer programmer in San Francisco, with zero life outside her work. One day, unexpectedly, the two-man crew from her favorite (only) takeout place knock on her door with her order and the starter for their restaurant sourdough. They’re packing up, leaving the country, could she keep the starter alive? It’s really easy, just feed it a little, and maybe bake some bread if you want, and here’s the music we’ve always played it. From there, Lois discovers the delightful wormhole that is baking and making, and completely changes her world.

Just, gosh darn it, I liked it. Really liked it. I liked Lois and relentless pursuit of knowledge and understanding. I liked watching her expand her comfort zone bit by bit and then by a whole lot. I like the cast of characters at the market where she sells and learns and discovers. And man I just really like sourdough bread.