I'm a baker. I was born of flour and heat and fermented in this big jar we call life. My original starter, Yeasty Boy, has sired many children that live lives of plenty. His grandchild, breAD-Rock, sits upon my counter as I type, growing fat on apple peels.
One of the first lessons of baking is that some ingredients can be modified or omitted without and real worry. You trade rosemary for thyme in your focaccia and everything's honky dory. On the other hand, if you switch the strong bread flour to whole wheat, you have crossed a moral line from which there may be no return. Some ingredients are simply more important, and some substitutions …
