Now that is a thing of beauty. Fresh sourdough bread from E5 Bakehouse. A friend brought some round recently and we have been obsessed ever since. I have written here about having a wheat intolerance, but if there is one thing that will make me fall off the wagon into bready oblivion it’s good sourdough.  A thick slice merely with butter easily makes it into my top five favourite foods.
Sourdough does seem to be fashionable just now, the peter pan collar of bread if you will. Or maybe it’s just that I’ve only really been aware of it since moving to London and got into the dining out scene down here, but it does seem to be everywhere, making unspecified crusty bread on a menu seem a bit dated. It’s just so utterly delicious; hard crust, doughy, tangy centre and a sense that it’s wholesome, made slowly with natural ingredients. It’s fitting that San Francisco, with it’s cool but healthily Californian image, is the capital of sourdough.
When our friend first brought round this particular bread on a Saturday, I found myself coming in from work the following Monday in something of a frenzy; barely taking my coat off before grabbing a couple of slices of the bread, melting some brie and eating together with black pepper; total bliss.
So I’m going to stick to avoiding wheat during the week but allow myself to indulge in this, the king of breads, at the weekend. And maybe the odd Monday night if I can’t resist.