How simply amazing? How perfectly incredible? Ted asked at supper tonight, “what’s in this?” (yes, the disastrously flat semolina sourdough bread ) And I just sat there, smiling, and said, “flour… and water.” Okay, there’s a bit of salt, and I realized this bread also included a bit of honey. But basically, flour and water. You mix it one way, you get one thing. You bake it differently, you get another thing. It’s like the magical desserts we used to make as kids, in the cool hidden part of the garage: water in a little teeny ring mold. My brother swore if we left it in the ring mold long enough, it would turn to jello. It never did: I just figured we didn’t leave it long enough. We used to psych each other out, convincing each other we could turn our spit to concrete. I’d find a blob on top of the concrete of the back steps and show him, saying, “see? I spit there last week and now it’s hardened.” And he’d do the same, showi...