(all natural) red velvet sourdough ❤️

She's lightly chocolatey and ultra ✨bright✨, courtesy of the raspberry tang.

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Hi, I’m sorry I’m late. So let’s talk candidly these next couple weeks about our past, present and, most importantly, our future (i.e. what will be hitting your inbox this year).

Because this is also the story of how I’d to move out of my home last month in quite literally one day (as it was no longer a safe place to live)(for more than one reason).

So to make a short story even shorter, there was some sort of structural shift in the house after some very heavy rain (which was incredibly scary as I heard a loud thump and the whole house shook)(say, I initially thought a branch or tree had fallen on the roof). But after I called my landlord and the local sheriff’s department, I was left with a very distinct impression that I was not only being gaslighted that what I experienced didn’t happen… but I was also being (not so) low key bullied by the whole lot as the police began to ask me, what I would come to learn from my attorney, as some fairly illegal questions.

As while I was utterly terrified about the structural integrity of the place I as renting, in shock and barely verbal, the focus of the first responders became on why I was acting so scared.

Because the whole house shook! I saw the gap in the living room close before my very eyes!! Look! I have pictures of what it looked like a few months ago! I pleaded incessantly, trying to show them the visible structural change around the drywall. But it was all to no avail, as I just saw the whole lot smirking at me repeatedly (and having to tell first responders to “please stop laughing” at you when you’re having an emergency is a gut wrenching feeling).

In fact, the police woman only stopped asking me questions about my mental health and, quite illegally for CA I hear, an extensive inquiry about my immigration status, when I pulled out an autistic card for first responders that asks that our differences in communicating while under high stress be taken under consideration and to please try to not touch nor restrain us (as my guess is she wasn’t grasping why I was struggling to form sentences… even though I repeatedly said I was stuttering from the shock as I’m autistic)

All around a scary experience… and, ironically, not because of the structural shift (as in all my years in America I’ve really been treated with a lot of dignity and kindness)(irrespective of being an immigrant)(which one might argue in some few cases has been due to my inherent white privilege, but that’s a long debate in and of its own)

Still, the house was deemed safe to live by the fire department and I, quite reluctantly, took the whole gang (my two dogs Dedal and Tito and three cats Hoopje, Barry White and little Olive) back in the house for the weekend. And I was more reluctant than anything not because I believed that the fire department would willingly put me at risk (they really did assure me that they checked the structure properly and nothing was moving at all), but because again– I had the distinct feeling that my landlords (to be known as Mr and Mrs X) were trying to gaslight everyone that I was lying about not just the structural shift even taking place, but all of a sudden also about my apparent involvement in the stove’s electrical fire that I had to put out with a fire extinguisher last spring (remember?).

And said distinct feeling that they were trying to manipulate the situation was only reinforced when Mrs X (who I’d never met in person before), strutted into my home as the first responders were leaving, and rather than ask if I was ok… she simply proceeded to berate me about my lack of verbal skills of the previous two weeks (and it became crystal clear that they thought I was making everything up, being autistic and having health issues included, only to scam them out of rent)(and… create a lawsuit perhaps?).

Because why was I seemingly going through all the trouble to put on this charade according to them (like, put all my animals under huge stress, throw my belongings out into the porch, call 911 etc)? Because I was late for rent that month (for the first time) on account of a medical emergency. But the Sheriff’s department had already cleared this, as Mr and Mrs X had sent a welfare check on me the day before to inquire about said late rent (which the Sheriff assured me was OK and he would handle it to clear the misunderstanding).

(side note: given that I was living in a house with a myriad of broken things, paying for plumbers and to get things fixed out of pocket, with flickering lights not being checked even a year after I spoke about them (which I now hear are incredibly dangerous as electricity should be constant)(and potentially not unrelated to the stove’s electrical fire), and many broken promises to come up with an alternative solution for the stove that nearly blew us up for a whole year… lmao, in hindsight now I’m just sorry that I didn’t withhold rent purposely months earlier to get them to come over and fix everything)

Anyways, rant over (but said rant of the events is also important in writing, as if anything were to happen to a future tenant of theirs in that house… well, then I’ll personally ensure to destroy their lives 🥰)(you hear me loud and clear Mr & Mrs X? so some free advice from my attorney: fix everything)

Because here’s the real kicker of the story: all my suspicions that they were low key bullying me and trying to do something sketchy, would be confirmed two days later when I was in the garage and I caught Mrs X pulling up to my driveway and getting out of her ginormous truck, phone in hand, to get a picture of my car (license plates, I’m assuming).

What was she up to? I had no idea (still don’t).

But I decided to surprise her by coming out from the garage, also phone in hand, and recording her at length (while she in turn continued to take pictures of me). I’ll refrain from posting the moment, but her bravado as she attempted to intimidate me in my own home was captured perfectly for posterity (you know, if need be 🥰🥰).

So I immediately proceeded to text Mr X to inquire why (on Earth?!!) his wife was at my house– as all of a sudden I could literally prove that what I’d told him last week was true: they didn’t actually care about my welfare at all and were just trying to come up with an excuse to call the police on me.

(But she was going to go to the police and accuse me… of what exactly this time around?!!)(Why were they trying to treat me like a criminal for having some very real emergencies in their house?!!!!)(And why, to begin with, was a woman who I’d met just once in my life showing such extreme and irrational anger towards me… for a pending bill that really could be settled with my deposit in the worst case scenario)(so many questions, absolutely no clear answers and plenty of exclamation marks lmao)

Because Mr X refrained to even try and explain his wife’s poor behavior and asked for my attorney to call him– who in turn calmly handled the situation (and Mr X seemingly repeated many times that “he was a good guy”, meant no harm and that he didn’t know his wife was coming over to my house). But they both agreed that it would be best if I were to move out that same day– like immediately.

And I did, because Mrs X is clearly someone with some very real and scary anger issues (and the type of person who automatically thinks the worst of people and actually attempts to try and do harm)(and, again, I have ample proof if need be 🥰🥰🥰).

So it was all chaotic and scary af.

A few things were broken, some forgotten and others lost.

(so they really are lucky I’m not suing them for what went down in the end)(but as we’ll see today we got bigger and badder Death Eaters to catch)

Because in the end everything that matters most was safe (as in my five little ones)(and Yosemite!) and we found ourselves driving out into the Bay Area mid February at dusk, with heavy rainfall pounding on the windshield– adding a high dose of drama to our swift move.

(honestly? I was beyond sad that I wouldn’t see the plants I planted last year bloom come spring)

Still, still. The actual eye-watering moment? 🥺

How calm and supportive all five bunnies (as I collectively refer to the fur babies) were to one another and myself.

Frankly? Since we were all in the house together and they all got to experience the (very real lol) structural shift, leaving was not a hard sell whatsoever.

A couple of people were worried about us, but I quickly put them at ease by reminding them, well, that I really have been through much worse.

(and for those that are new here, hi I’m Paola and other than highly enjoying baking sourdough, I’m also someone that a long time ago found themselves held captive and medically abused by an individual who we’re referring to as Bellatrix Lestrange–yes, as in the Harry Potter series)(and yes, you read that whole sentence right)(but if you’re wondering why you haven’t heard about this anywhere else, its because last year I made a promise to another one of the Death Eaters of this story that I wouldn’t talk about it outside of this newsletter– so, I suppose, welcome to fight club is in order)

(but to be completely, like completely, honest my promise to She Who Must Not Be Named was also rather self serving– as surviving tough 💩 like I did means that people have a tendency to treat you differently once they find out, and more often than not its like you’re irrevocably broken)(so being known “for what I survived” just wasn’t something I particularly craved, and my guess is few people would… as its one heck of a weird experience to have others make a distinction for a scar you bear)

Alas, for a while I thought I could hide my scars from the world and move on with my life (fairly quietly, baking sourdough), but last year after the story of the doctor broke a series of other events unfolded behind the scenes… and I would come to find out the reason why Bellatrix would feel compelled to hold me captive all those years ago.

And finding out the truth… well, it broke me a little.

Why?

Because all of a sudden it felt like everything that happened to me could’ve been avoided.

But it mainly broke me because I realized that I was only held captive to keep a much graver secret hidden (and it was now in my hands to get justice not for me, but for all the others who didn’t have my privilege to move on with their lives… and well, find and bake their sourdough).

(and its been a real scary burden, I’m not even gonna try and play brave here)(and that’s the main reason why you haven’t heard as much from me as I planned… as both my mental and physical health took a toll unexpectedly as the months have progressed)(i.e. I’ve been scared shitless as its become clear that all our Death Eater characters really will come to life…. and its permeated slowly to every area of my life, leading to anger and disappointment with myself for effectively feeling like I’m slowly shutting down on the world)(like… am I even a Gryffindor? dang guys 😭)

so. what to do?

I suppose the evolution of Neville Longbottom himself provides the answer; but it’s also easier said than done to find one’s selfless bravery (or is it?).

Because as I found myself in a motel last month with the little ones, no stranger to change, but this time around more fearful than hopeful of everything that’s about to happen in our lives (and both Dedal and I not in tip top shape)– it all led to me making the very drastic decision to attempt plant medicine while under a non verbal autistic state)(spoiler: I’m actually glad I did… as I was allowing the fear of everything that I’m having to face cripple me entirely)(and spoiler two: it made me angry beyond reason that I had escaped captivity so bravely only to succumb, well, to my own greatest fear: fear itself)

(but unlike Professor Lupin, I dunno… I wouldn’t deem it particularly wise)(as its simply something that many of my besties who’ve also survived tough 💩 too will understand)

OK, enough for today as we have a rather spectacular sourdough to bake.

As the story I have for you these next couple weeks (which will require more than one chapter to tell, as it’ll touch upon all three pillars of our newsletter: functional food, adaptogens and plant medicine) is a little bit like our red velvet sourdough of today: a seemingly perfect symphony… born out of a myriad of failed attempts (and a good hint of desperation).

for its a long road to success 🪜

And today’s loaf in question was born (accidentally, I must say) out of a series of experiments for a near year ranging from:

1. adding beetroot juice to the dough instead of water for hydration: makes for a pretty pink dough, but it completely washes out so all efforts are wasted

2. 10% beetroot powder: very pretty dough, but disappointingly washes out and bakes yellow-ish. Plus the taste is not worthwhile either.

3. 10% beetroot powder, 2.4% cacao + 10% raw honey: tasted *delicious* (I was honestly surprised) and had a pleasant reddish brown hue:

4. to accidentally baking a raspberry and chocolate chunk sourdough a couple days later– and realizing that it might just be “the missing link!!” to my red velvet trials.

   (worthy note though: I made the mistake of using freshly washed raspberries below and they left moist puddles in the bread– SO DON’T WASH YOUR BERRIES!)(or obviously wash them but just ensure they’re super dry)(and I don’t personally enjoy coating them in flour or cornstarch for sourdough, as I do want the juices to seep through the bread)

As the raspberries seeping through adds a wonderful tanginess to the mix that cannot be missed (and incidentally helps us with color theory by adding hints of red), which makes for a spectacularly beautiful and amazingly all natural red velvet sourdough.

i.e. she’s a real keeper!

xo! Paola

(all natural) red velvet sourdough ❤️

She’s lightly chocolatey and beautifully bright, courtesy of the raspberry tang.

To scale to however many loafs you want (or 1 loaf in grams)

ingredients

80% (400g) spring water

20% (100g) active sourdough starter

10% (50g) raw honey

8% (40g) cane sugar

10% (50g) beet powder

2.4% (12g) cacao (you really do want cacao if the red has any chance to shine through)

100% (500g) unbleached bread flour

2% (10g) fine sea salt

170g (6oz) fresh raspberries (make sure they are *completely* dry!)

90g (3oz) chocolate chunks

feed your starter

1. Add roughly 50g of flour to feed your starter (you want 100g of active starter for the recipe).

2. Add enough spring water (you don’t want filtered, you really do want the added minerals) until the dough resembles a thick pancake batter. Generally 50g of water/50 g of flour (i.e. a 100% ratio) is enough to get the consistency right (but if you're dealing with warmer temperatures you may want to do just 70% to have a more stable starter).

3. Allow to rest for 3-6 hours in a warm(ish) place: until it doubles in size. You can test for prime activity fairly well either using the float test (as it sounds: check if your starter floats in a little water) or the burn test (tap your starter on the counter to “break the surface”, light a match and if it blows out it means your starter is using up all the oxygen in the surrounding area i.e. it’s sourdough time).

3-6 hours later: make your dough

1. Add the water (preferably at room temp), active starter, honey and sugar to a large bowl. Using your hands (though some peeps favor a danish hook) mix it all up until dissolved (don’t overthink it if a few lumps and granulated sugar remain).

2. Sift in the beetroot powder and cacao (a must as dealing with the lumps of both are a nightmare), flour and salt and mix with your hands until just combined and the dough is all shaggy (and ultra sticky).

3. Cover with a kitchen towel and let it rest for 30 minutes.

30 mins later: bulk rise (plus stretch ‘n folds)

1. Thirty minutes in you’ll want to do a set of “stretch ‘n folds”: grab a hold of the dough, stretch it upwards and fold it down towards the center of the bowl. Rotate and repeat four times.

2. Repeat two more times every thirty minutes. vip note: I found that it took three sets of stretch ‘n folds for this dough to actually begin to come together nicely (different add-ins will affect gluten development ime)

3. Transfer to a smaller bowl (as it’s easier to gauge the rise if you can actually mark it with a sharpie) and cover with a kitchen towel.

4. Allow to rest for 6-10 hours, or until at least doubled in size (remember that time here is directly influenced by temperature so it’ll vary greatly)(p.s. I generally let mine go until it almost tripes as I’ve pushed it just until the point that it begins to recede back and it still comes out superb)(and I personally find it easiest to digest as the carbs and gluten will have substantially fermented).

6-10 hours later: shape

1. Lightly flour your working surface, turn the dough out and stretch it out gently (allow it to rest for 10 minutes if it “feels” like it’s resisting)(you’ll know, trust me!). Stretch it out, add the raspberries and chocolate chunks, fold the sides in, add a handful more raspberries and chocolate, and roll it gently but tightly. You then want to roll it gently against the counter towards you a few times (this creates surface tension, making for a better crust!).

2. Transfer to a (very well floured or lined) banneton or small-ish bowl and cover with a paper towel, place inside a plastic bag and proof at room temp for two hours (or until you poke it gently with your finger and the dough springs back slowly). You can alternatively refrigerate it for 12-24 hours, but you run the risk of the raspberries beginning to liquify a bit inside (and the added sugar speeds up sourdough fermentation, so you most certainly don’t want to proof this gal longer than a day).

   note on “the poke test”: you want to poke it gently, and if it springs back slowly you know you’re golden (but if it springs back too quickly it’s actually under-proofed)(and, you may’ve guessed it, if it doesn’t spring back at all you’re now over-proofed). i.e. this is why baking a few loafs and poking them around throughout it’s stages is highly suggested.

2 hours later: bake away!

1. Preheat oven to 450°F/230°C with your Dutch oven inside for 20 minutes (some peeps bake at a lower temperature, say 420°F, it depends a bit on your oven).

2. Score loaf in order to allow it to expand evenly (and create a beautiful “ear”). Knifes don’t quite work here, a razor blade really is prime.

3. Bake lid on for 30 minutes (I’ve found it necessary to add 10 minutes to *any* loaf with juicy berry inclusions), remove lid and bake for 20 more minutes or until deeply golden brown (if you tap it on the bottom it’ll also sound hollow).

4. Allow to cool *completely* if you don’t want to wreck your crumb– and you guys know I tend to be lenient with this… but never for loafs with juicy inclusions, as the crumb does need to fully cool down so it doesn’t turn to mush when you cut it.

5. And enjoy with a generous pad of salted butter or cream cheese (and good vibes aplenty).