Yeast.

Lewisburg.

The house smells like yeast.

This is okay. It's a yeast-intensive time around here. A loaf of sourdough has just gone into the oven; my first-ever batch of cider is fermenting, the airlock bubbling away furiously. Unlike the more usual loaves of bread and bagels made in this kitchen, there's an air of uncertainty about these. Except in the unusual case where the yeast has been around too long¹ and no longer leavens, a regular loaf of bread is very predictable. Temperature and humidity keep it from running like a Swiss watch, but even so, you can schedule it into your day. Sourdough and alcoholic fermentation, however, fit you into their schedule.

Sourdough can be frustrating. Feedings² aside, the process of making a loaf involves multiple additions of flour and long, separate risings. It also takes more effort to knead; the dough likes to remain sticky, and can form long, highly elastic gluten strings that make it look like the kneading'll never be finished. Even the timing's difficult, as the timing of the latest feeding (among other things) may mean the initial rise should be anywhere from twelve to eighteen hours. But it does make a wonderful loaf of bread.

Alcoholic fermentation - in this case, apple cider - is another crapshoot when it comes to timing. From what I've gathered, the primary fermentation should take roughly seven to ten days; time in the secondary should be at least another two weeks, plus two to four more for bottle conditioning and carbonation. On the upside, cider - unlike beer - doesn't require boiling five gallons of sugary liquid, meaning there's less to clean.

While there are distinct differences in how these two yeast-driven processes work - sourdough is leavened by yeasts of the genus Candida and soured by Lactobacillus bacteria, while alcoholic beverages are fermented by different species in the Saccharomyces genus³; for bread, the aerobic processes of the yeast produce carbon dioxide, letting the bread rise, and for cider, the anaerobic processes generate alcohol - it's worth noting that working with either requires you to observe it all indirectly. Yeast cells are really difficult to see, even when squinting, so you have to watch the results of their action and hope for the best.

Signs to look for: the expansion of a loaf of bread dough, seeing that it's risen enough (and thus won't be too dense) but not too much (and so won't rise in the oven, but might fall instead), all while making sure that the acids and enzymes produced by the yeasts don't break down the gluten network and reduce the loaf to a sticky sourdough batter; the vigorous bubbling from a fermentor's airlock (though if it gets too vigorous, the airlock may get ejected by the force of the carbon dioxide produced); or even the smell. The kitchen smells of a combination of yeasty action - the aroma of rising bread - with the changing cider, moving from the sweet richness of freshly pressed apples to a more delicate scent, lighter, like a distillation of the qualities of the apple. It sure seems like it's going well... but it'll be weeks before I know with any certainty.

It's the risk - and the rewards, of homemade goods not quite like anything available in a store - that makes it all interesting. Will it all turn out well in the end? Probably. But I've failed before. And been pleasantly surprised, too.

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¹It's never happened to me, but I suppose it's bound to eventually.

²I've changed my regular feedings slightly to cut down on the salt. Though it didn't kill off the starter culture, the salt definitely slowed it down - to the point where the yeastly/bacterial enzymatic action breaking down the gluten threatened to outpace the bread's rising. I still add some, in every second or third feeding, and it's definitely improved.

³In this case, I'm using a strain of Saccharomyces bayanus from Champagne, hoping to keep a neutral - and still apple-y - flavor profile.