Slow bread

I pitch lots of ideas all the time. Some get commissioned, some don't. Of the ones that get the go-ahead, there are stories I would happily write for nothing. La Tartine, an organic sourdough bakery here on the Central Coast, was one such piece.

It was the school holidays, or in our case, preschool holidays, so Luca came with me. He sat on the floury floor and drew. He drew the mixers and he drew their fruit loaf.

His Mummy talked to the bakers. The bakers that make the best kind of bread. The same bread that was made thousands of years ago. The oldest kind of bread.

His Daddy took pictures (although I hasten to add that I took this one!)

I could have talked to them all day, but they had hundreds of loaves to roll, shape and prove. They had been there since early morning and wouldn't leave till just before midnight. Their days are long and very physical. But they do it because they're passionate about sourdough. They believe in bread made this way.

In what was really only a few hours, they managed to inspire, teach and even scare me.

The inspiring part is why I started my food artisan series. They're definitely next in line. I'll be writing another post very soon to celebrate the people at La Tartine. (I'll explain why they scared me – and I don't mean Halloween scary.)