There Is No “I” in Sourdough

On Community, Generosity, and the Way We Rise Together

There is something I keep coming back to as this journey unfolds.

There is no “I” in sourdough.

Not really.

Because no matter how much time I spend alone in my kitchen, no matter how many loaves I mix, fold, and bake with my own hands, I am not doing this by myself.

Not even close.

The Kind of Community I Didn’t Expect

Somewhere along the way, I found myself in a private group of bakers.

Men and women running their own micro bakeries.
Working out of home kitchens.
Balancing life, business, and the rhythm of bread.

Many of them use the same oven I do. The Simply Bread Oven.

But what connects us is not the equipment.

It’s the willingness to share.

When I say these people have become like family to me, I am not exaggerating.

There is a level of humility, generosity, and grace in this group that continues to surprise me.

No competition.
No holding back.
No sense that someone else’s success takes anything away.

Just people showing up for one another.

The Ones Who Go First

There are always a few people in any space who quietly lead.

Not because they are trying to be seen.
But because they cannot help but give.

One of those people, for me, has been Alisha Fuller.

She offers her time so freely.

Hosting webinars.
Sharing her knowledge.
Answering questions with patience and care.

And not in a way that feels distant or technical.

In a way that feels human.

Approachable.
Encouraging.
Kind.

There is a steadiness in the way she shows up that makes you feel like you are not alone in figuring this out.

Like someone has already walked the path and is willing to turn back and guide you.

The Small Things That Aren’t Small

Recently, someone in the group asked a simple question.

English muffins.

Many of us use molds when we bake them. I do the same when I make Bim’s English muffins.

And if you’ve worked with molds, you know what can happen.

The dough expands.
It presses against the sides.
And sometimes, when you go to remove the finished muffin, it sticks.

It tears.

Not ruined.
But not quite what you hoped for.

So the question was asked.

And almost immediately, Alisha responded.

Softened butter inside the molds before baking.

That was it.

Simple.
Obvious, once you hear it.
And something I had never thought to do.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one.

Why This Matters

It would be easy to dismiss something like that.

Just a tip.
Just a small adjustment.

But it is more than that.

It is someone taking a moment to make the process easier for someone else.

It is someone choosing to share what they know instead of holding onto it.

It is generosity, in its simplest form.

And when you see that over and over again, something shifts.

You begin to understand that this work was never meant to be done alone.

The Kind of Baker I Hope to Be

I think about this often.

The kind of person I am becoming in this space.

Not just in skill.

But in spirit.

Because baking teaches you a lot.

But community teaches you something just as important.

How to give.
How to support.
How to show up for someone else’s learning the way someone once showed up for yours.

I am still learning.

Still asking questions.
Still making mistakes.
Still figuring things out one loaf at a time.

But I carry these moments with me.

And I hope, in time, to become someone who does the same.

Someone who answers the question.
Someone who shares the tip.
Someone who makes the path just a little easier for the next baker.

Closing Reflection

There is no “I” in sourdough.

There is only us.

Hands learning together.
Mistakes shared openly.
Knowledge passed freely.

And something beautiful that happens when we choose to rise together instead of alone.

Warmly,
Kathy
Art of The Crumb