3 Life Lessons I’ve Learned From Sourdough Bread

It seems that I do have a trend of finding life lessons from my hobbies and interests. Two years ago, I wrote a piece on how ballet taught me life lessons. Then, I wrote about the deep symbolism of children’s movies, and finally, Taylor Swift. These are just some of my hobbies and interests alongside my full-time job as a researcher, and part time PhD.

I was inspired by Taylor Swift, who spoke about making sourdough when she was on press tours promoting her new album in October 2024. So, seeing the joy it brought her, I went on my own journey, which really kept me going through the cold, dark, and wet January days in London. Today, I will talk about some life lessons I have learnt through this process.

Lesson 1 - Resilience and consistency:

The sourdough process begins with the creation of a ‘starter’ (equal amounts of water and flour) and takes about a week (or so I thought) to mature, grow, and be ready to bake with. And this is a journey in itself. The recipe I was following made it very clear that I would have an active, bubbly starter by day 7, fresh and ready to bake with. So, I bought all my accessories: a baby pink Dutch oven, a scorer, and a banneton.

However, 7 days, even 14 days later, though I’d been feeding it every day, making sure it was warm, my starter refused to show all the telltale signs it was ready to bake with. I woke up with excitement every morning, hoping it had doubled in size (meaning the wild yeast is active and producing enough gas to expand the mixture), or passed the ‘float test’ (If a spoonful of starter floats in water, it indicates enough trapped air from fermentation, suggesting it’s active). I was disappointed every day, but I decided to keep at it, with the hope that one day, my starter will be ready. Lo and behold, one fine Saturday morning I woke up to an active, bubbly starter, who had doubled in size, passed the float test, and it genuinely made my day.

This journey really showed me not to give up. Every day, I thought of quitting the process, thinking I’d done something wrong and wouldn’t actually be able to complete it. And I know, a few years from now, when I am at the stage of writing my PhD thesis, or in my career, there will be days where I feel like giving up. And it is on those days where I will remember these moments of my starter, which has inspired me in so many unexpected ways.

(P.S. In the sourdough community, it is not uncommon to name your sourdough starter, so, dear reader, I’d like to introduce you to Doughphelia!)

Lesson 2 - Community

Something that pleasantly surprised me was the sense of oneness and community in the process. Now, my boss and I have a shared interest, and when not talking about our work, he (way more experienced in both research and sourdough skills) shares tips on how I can improve on my breadmaking skills, and also be a better researcher.

I have also begun to appreciate the sourdough community on social media. When I, on what felt like day 100 of my sourdough starter, was not seeing any signs that it was ready to cook, I’d find so many similar experiences, showing me that I’m not alone. And this really goes on to show how community and social support can go such a long way. I’ve seen how home bakers swap tips and troubleshoot flat or over proofed loaves and even share starter across cities and countries. 

Lesson 3 - Learn from your mistakes

I had an incredible first try, and my first ever sourdough loaf was a success. So, I decided to take it a step further and make another such loaf as a present for someone. Long story short, it was an absolute failure. In an attempt to make a smaller sized loaf, I miscalculated the amount of water I had to put into the mixture, and as a result, was left with sticky dough which didn’t firm up to become a loaf.

But when the dough didn’t rise the way I hoped, I chose not to see it as a failure. Instead, I reshaped it, pressed it into a pan, drizzled it with olive oil, and turned it into focaccia. What was meant to be one thing became something else, still warm, still nourishing, still good. And thus I learnt, sometimes life works the same way. The plan we carefully shape may fall flat, but that doesn’t mean the effort was wasted. Rather, it might be a great opportunity to transfer that energy and effort into another meaningful project.

Instead of throwing it down the drain (which you must NEVER do with starters, it will clog your pipes), repurpose it, and reap the fruits of your labour.

I really didn’t expect that something Taylor Swift said in passing would inspire me so much. Now, on Friday evenings, I look forward to feeding my starter, so that it is fresh and ready to start the process on Saturday, finally baking on Sunday morning. While at the surface level I now have a new skill, or passion I can enjoy in my free time, I know that these lessons are some that I will apply to my career, and my PhD.

"Let time do the work. That's the secret of sourdough." — Chad Robertson