Attack of the sourdough monster

I wanted to learn how to make sourdough bread. So I did. I got some starter and a recipe and in no time had a pretty good little factory going. Hot, sourdough bread ... OH YEAH!!!

I was single at the time and was living in an apartment.

I'd been away this particular weekend and when I returned Sunday night and unlocked the door, the smell was the first thing to hit me. It smelled like a baker had gotten drunk and had barfed everywhere. Pretty descriptive, huh? Sorry.

When I went into the kitchen, I discovered the source ... here's a tip from me to you ... if you ever make sourdough bread - DO NOT put the starter in a sealed glass jar and keep it on your kitchen counter over the weekend – it WILL explode and by explode, I don't mean "klink" it cracks and two pieces fall apart - no - KABOOM!!! A hideous dough monster was hanging from beneath my kitchen cabinet quivering and making gurgling, gaseous sounds. It was enticing me to approach it. I'm sure it wanted to absorb me like an amoeba. I didn't do it. I was wise to its ploy.

So much for my sourdough experiment.