Maybe I Float Now

I promise to try not to blog about bread again after this… maybe.

In sourdough baking there’s something called the float test. Take a bit of starter and drop it in water. If it floats, it’s ready to bake with. If it sinks, it’s not.

I’ve always loved cooking. I’ve made this kitchen a sanctuary—my happy zone. I’ve always loved cooking for my friends and family, and I’d call myself a good cook.

But moving here, I wasn’t really prepared to cook for a full house. There’s a difference between cooking for people you love and having to ask yourself, “Would I pay for that?”

When the answer is ultimately no, your heart breaks a little.

Then I got in my head. I’ve always suffered from extreme anxiety. Once one thing goes wrong you get flustered, and once you’re flustered more things go wrong, until just getting through the day becomes a fight-or-flight thing.

I was not a ready sourdough starter.

I’d go through service shaking, wanting so badly to get everything perfect. The worry I lived with every day wasn’t healthy for me, and it wasn’t conducive to the high standards Chris and I have set for our hospitality.

Thankfully, in the middle of that episode I had a trip. My son Ethan was graduating high school, and I took a week away. I used the time to calm and center myself, to remind myself that I am enough and that I know what I’m doing—I just have to slow down sometimes.

When I returned I shadowed one of the amazing women on our staff in the kitchen for a few weeks. I watched her recipes, saw how her brain works on the fly, and learned that even in a time crunch a beautiful meal can still be made.

It was so helpful. Since then I’ve been calmer, clearer, and more task-oriented.

This morning I slept in a little and still had a lot to accomplish in a very short window for service. A month ago that would have sent me into a tizzy. Today I moved with purpose and intention and didn’t let the nerves get the best of me.

It was a great service. We sent our guests home with a meal we were proud of.

Now I sit in this grand kitchen after a day of leisurely cleaning and think to myself:

Maybe I’m ready.

Maybe I float now.

When you struggle, it’s hard to remember to slow down, to breathe, to remember you are enough. Striving to be better doesn’t diminish the worth you already have.

I’m starting to believe it.

<written by Angela 9.8.26>