Only when I thought I’d lost it did I realize how much I valued it.

FOOD | Julianne Glatz

A couple months ago, I lost something valuable. The value wasn’t monetary; it was precious because I’d created it and kept it alive for 15 years. Truthfully, I’d come to take it for granted, knowing that even if I neglected it for months, it would still be there whenever I needed it. Only when I thought I’d lost it for good did I realize how much I valued it.

My sourdough starter. Sourdough is the oldest known bread; it remains one of the best. As Ed Wood says in his book, Classic Sourdoughs, “10,000 years later, there’s no way to raise better bread.” Wood, a physician, became pathology chairman in a Saudi Arabian hospital. He’d become interested in a class of “truly unique organisms” even before then: the yeasts and beneficial bacteria that had been the basis of breadmaking for thousands of years. Now in the Middle East, the historic birthplace of bread, Wood began a quest for sourdough cultures and knowledge that had been passed down through generations from the earliest beginnings of civilizations.

The “sour” in sourdough comes from those beneficial bacteria: lactobaccilus, which have a symbiotic relationship with yeasts. Their byproduct, lactic acid, gives sourdough breads their unique flavor.

It’s not difficult to find sourdough starter.

Packets of dried starter are available; there are numerous cookbooks and websites with instructions. And I was pretty sure that Patrick Groth, master baker and owner of Incredibly Delicious, would give me some of the starter that he uses to make his incredibly delicious artisanal sourdough breads.

Still, my own sourdough starter had been special, something unique to my particular place in the world. I’d used Nancy Silverton’s

book, Breads from the La Brea Bakery. Silverton was in the vanguard of American chef/bakers rediscovering the fantastic flavors and textures of artisanal breads with crackling crusts and chewy, subtly tart interiors. Silverton’s book was the first to translate the sourdough techniques and recipes used by artisanal baking professionals for use by home bakers.

“This is the most frustrating and ultimately satisfying thing I discovered: Bread is alive,” she says.

“Sourdough bread in all its states, as a starter, as a dough, as a shaped loaf about to go in the oven, is a product not only of its ingredients, but of its surroundings. The sourdough loaf you might make in St. Louis with the same ingredients, equipment and recipe as I use in Los Angeles will not be exactly the same as mine. It will have its own characteristics and idiosyncrasies.”

I’d followed Silverton’s instructions, beginning with pesticide-free grapes, because grape skins naturally attract wild yeasts. Using wild grapes that grow in our woods and water from our well made it truly, as Silverton says, a product of my surroundings. Making the starter was a 14-day process. After initially fermenting the grapes, water and flour, the culture is periodically refreshed with additional flour and water until Day 10 when it begins to be fed three times a day. On the 15th day, the sourdough starter is finally ready to make bread.

And so I began baking. I’ve never considered myself primarily a baker, especially not a bread baker. I’d made yeast breads occasionally: tasty, homey loaves and rolls. One I especially liked included crunchy millet seeds and oatmeal that kept well and made wonderful toast. But the sourdough bread I was produc-ing was at a higher level. Chef friends asked if I’d bring it to dinner. I became confident enough to teach sourdough bread making in my cooking classes, building up enough starter to give to students.