Love Lesson While the Limpa
Rises for 14 Hours

Though I call this waiting, the bread does not.   In the bowl, the wild yeast feeds on the complex sugar of wheat.   What it cannot eat, it breaks down to release whatever is trapped   in the bonds of starch. It is divined. An unfolding cache. The perfect habitat for a hunger. S. exiguus. Lactobacillus brevis. Lactobacillus plantarum.   Oh the slow work of leavening, of helping things rise, of allowing the fullest flavors   to come. In the meantime, we gather light and feast on sacred texts that October writes   in inks of gold and crimson red. We lose the boundaries of day and night.   The body, refreshed, slowed down, bends and deeply folds, expands again in a spell   of disappearing bones. I am not willing to call this waiting anymore. Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer (wordwoman@rosemerry.com) is still looking for a fine dark Finnish rye recipe, oh please, please.

Recipes for limpa bread (which is delicious) can be found here and here.