Andrew writes: My husband was gifted a sourdough starter, established in the 1890s, by a stranger in the forest. He’s filled our refrigerator with dough, but hasn’t baked any of it; I demand the fridge back!
First of all: Don’t accept food, never mind ancient yeast colonies, from strangers in the woods. But it’s too late for that. Your husband has been cursed by a bread fairy and is now bound to keep making dough until the spell is lifted. And because no one wants that stuff since the glut of 2020, there’s only one choice: You must bake all that bread yourself, then walk through the woods leaving a trail of crumbs behind you until all of it is gone. (If a golden swan follows you home though, don’t let it in! It’s a Wordle Witch!) As for the starter, read this column over it while making eye contact with your partner, and you’ll discover he will magically knock it off.