shewhomust | Saffron loaf for breakfast

I am reunited with my sourdough starter. It has been spending its holidays with S., who is the second-best and most serious baker I know (after

desperance), and had expressed a desire to try sourdough. The experiment wasn't a success - she felt, I think, that the soudough method required extra effort which the result didn't justify - but that's why we experiment, and my starter has returned to me rested and refreshed after its holiday (that is, it is full of bounce).

Not having to think about baking as we prepared for our holiday was certainly a relief; but something's been missing, too, and by the time I was ready to bake my first batch of bread, I knew it would be a saffron loaf.

A generous pinch - ah, I see that's what I said last time - in that case, a more than generous pinch of saffron set to steep until I was ready for it. Half white flour (which was all the white flour I had, but luckily, all I needed) a quarter spelt and a quarter rye made a bright yellow dough. Some candied peel (the citrus and grapefruit from the tub of pieces, must try to source some more now because I'm down to the last of the orange), a handful of pistachios and another of sultanas. I soaked the sultanas, but I think the added moisture made the dough harder to handle, and I can't discern any difference in the fruit, so I might not bother next time.

This made one big loaf, which - and this is obvious, but I didn't work it out for myself, I learned it from S - I cut in half before freezing it. And since I was slicing it down the middle, obviously I sneaked a slice for breakfast. Oh, it was good, a chewy mouthful of harsh saffron and mellow fruit.

Tomorrow it's back to the brick, the second half of which has emerged from the freezer. I don't care if it's solid. I love the flavour. I have this theory about cooking, which is that anyone who cooks at all secrety thinks that they are a much better cook than they will admit, because you get to cook things the way you like them.