Taiye’s voice is distinct. I can hear it in my mind. Her voice is transparent; she hides nothing. In this letter, she tells me how she is learning to make sourdough bread. I can read her excitement in her handwriting, which is slanted and sloppy, and some of the words aren’t entirely spelled out. I’m a little bit in awe of how little this recipe needs. It’s simple and complete. Flour, water, and time. That it! Well, I think the real magic is the bacteria floating in the air and wild yeast in the flour. Breadmaking is my favourit part of Culinary schoo so far. I butchred a pig the other day,
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