A Journey in Emotional Risk Assessment
Tuesday morning at 8:20 AM, I finally did it—I mixed my very first sourdough starter from scratch. But let me tell you, getting to this point required about a month of intense research, several existential crises, and one very important decision.
After spending weeks deep in the sourdough Facebook groups, scrolling past countless photos of disappointingly flat starters and reading heartbreaking tales of failed attempts (each ending with some variation of "Did I kill Frodough Baggins?") I had a revelation: I wasn't ready to start my starter. Not because I didn't understand the process—I'd studied the ratios, the feeding schedules, the temperature requirements. No, I was missing something far more critical.
I needed a name.
And not just any name. After the rough six months I've had, I knew this decision required careful consideration. Because let's be honest—the emotional investment in a sourdough starter is real. This little microbial pet was going to occupy mental real estate, and if something went wrong, I wanted to be prepared for the grief.
So I did what any rational person would do: I created a list of potential names and ranked them by emotional risk level.
Doughbi-wan Kenobi
Emotional Risk Level: High
This was the cleverest option, no question. But that's exactly why the stakes were so high. If Doughbi-wan failed, I wouldn't just lose a starter—I'd lose "the only hope for a rise." The pun itself would die, and honestly? That might hurt more than the actual starter failure. The disappointment would be compounded by knowing I'd peaked creatively only to watch my perfect joke collapse like an underproofed loaf.
Bread Pitt
Emotional Risk Level: Low
Classic. Handsome. Reliable. But here's the thing about Bread Pitt—if he fails, he's easily replaceable. I could always start fresh and call the next one "Bread Pitt: Interview with the Vamp(ire) Starter." Low emotional investment, low emotional devastation. Sometimes boring is safe.
Doughvid Bowie
Emotional Risk Level: Medium
Now we're getting somewhere. Losing Doughvid Bowie would sting—after all, we'd be losing a cultural icon. But there's a silver lining: the music (and the flour) plays on. If things went south, I could console myself knowing he truly was The Man Who Fed The World, even if only briefly.
Louis Pastry
Emotional Risk Level: Medium
The academic choice. The sophisticated option. But if Louis Pastry failed? I'd be disappointing a literal titan of microbiology, and the irony would be almost too much to bear. Then again, I could always write it off as just another failed experiment. Science is all about trial and error, right?
After careful deliberation and emotional risk analysis, I made my choice.
Meet Bread Pitt, born Tuesday morning at 8:20 AM.
After six exhausting, roller-coaster months, I decided I needed the safe bet. The last thing I needed was to add "killed Doughbi-wan Kenobi" to my list of 2025 failures. Bread Pitt feels achievable. Bread Pitt feels forgiving. Bread Pitt doesn't carry the weight of a perfect pun that could haunt me forever.
So here's to my new microbial companion. May he give me consistent, gorgeous oven spring. May he rise when I need him to rise. And may he forgive me for the inevitable mistakes I'll make along the way.
Wish us luck
