Fizzy, Izzy, let’s get busy

“You’re like a picture on a fridge that’s never stocked with food.”

Here Comes a Regular, by The Replacements

My sourdough starter is costing me a small fortune. She (I’ve started called her Izzi seeing as how she can be a little fizzy sometimes) only drinks bottled water and she demands to be fed with the finest flours at least once a day. When she doesn’t get her meal, she promptly collapses and refuses to get up. I’m beginning to think Izzi is kinda high maintenance.

And yet, it hasn’t been her demanding nature which has irked me most during our on-off relationship this past while. Most irksome is that she’s been making me feel regularly guilty at feeding time.

If like me, you’ve the semi-proud owner of a sourdough starter and you’re regularly wrecked with guilt when chucking out the discard before feeding (such waste!), I’ve got a game changer of a suggestion for you: Instead of chucking the discard, eat it.

I picked up this tip recently when watching the four millionth video online regarding different tacks for maintaining an active (and demanding) starter and since then, I can happily report I’m guilt free.

No longer am I wincing and wringing my hands after remanding the discard into custody (the bin) prior to Izzi’s meal. No longer do I feel as though so much is going to loss.

This is a simple little process but oh-so delicious.

Heat a frying pan with a little sunflower oil and imagine you’re making regular pancakes.

Pour on the sourdough discard (you can make big ones or small ones) and when it’s frying, sprinkle on some chopped spring onions, a little salt and a few pinches of Zaatar onto the raw side.

After a few minutes, flip over and finish the cooking with another pinch of seasoning for good measure.

Serve up with a little grated cheese and a squirt of barbecue sauce.

It’s a pancake like you’ve never had before: Tangy and salty and sweet – ticking all the boxes. Texturally, it’s also strange.

Crispy on the outside after frying, it has the gooey interior consistency of a crumpet. I haven’t tried it with bacon and eggs yet but you can bet your bottom dollar that day will come.

And come again.

If you don’t have an Izzi in your life, then that recipe isn’t going to make much sense to you, although if you know someone with a starter, chances are they’d be only too happy to furnish you with a little discard, especially if their starter is as demanding as mine.

Personally, I’ve fired out discard to a load of people so far and so far, there have been no negative reports.

Ask and ye shall receive!

And it would appear that my erstwhile feelings of guilt have been permanently consigned to the past. It’s amazing what a simple query into Google will achieve. ‘What to do with my sourdough discard?’

It turns out there’s a whole range of biscuits and scones and crackers and cakes and muffins and breads and crumpets to be made.

But all in good time. First me and Izzi will have to consummate our relationship with a string of decent loaves and, come to think of it, pizzas.

I don’t want any more un-risen breads or explosions. In short, she had better start pulling her weight or decisive action will be taken – in the form of sourdough starter-acide.

As they say among the bushes, Izzi had better watch herself or the day will come that she’ll find her wholeself tipped into the frying pan and topped with spring onions and Zaatar.

Fizzy, Izzi, you better get busy.