Sourdough English Muffins

First day of school. Mason, third grade, walked in with the easy confidence of a veteran. Lily, first grade, walked in with the blazing confidence of someone who has decided that this building belongs to her. I cried in the car. Five minutes. The annual tradition. The tears are smaller each year but they're still there, because watching your children walk away from you is always a small goodbye, even when the goodbye is measured in hours and not years.

Tom and I set a date. A real date. Dinner, this Saturday, at a restaurant in the North End. My first date in — how long? I haven't been on a date since I was twenty-five. I am thirty-five. A decade. A decade of marriage and cancer and divorce and rebuilding, and now I'm going on a date with a man who talks about rivers and cooks his own dinner and hasn't tried to impress me with anything except his honesty, which is, at this point, the most impressive thing anyone can offer.

I told Brett. He said, "About time." I said, "What does that mean?" He said, "It means I've been watching you be alone for two years and you're not an alone person, Heather. You're a table-full-of-people person." He's right. I am. The table is full. But there's a chair that's empty. Not urgently empty, not desperately empty. Just... available. Available for the right person, who shows up at the right time, and doesn't try too hard, and asks about the cinnamon rolls.

I told Jen. She screamed. Actually screamed, into the phone, at a volume that should have been illegal. She said, "WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?" and I said, "I don't know yet," and she said, "I'm coming over Saturday to help you get ready," and I said, "I'm thirty-five, I can dress myself," and she said, "You own three pairs of jeans and a vet tech scrub collection. I'm coming over."

I made my best sourdough loaf this week — Frank is two years old now and producing consistently excellent bread, with a tangy crumb and a crackling crust. I sliced it warm and ate it with butter and thought about Saturday and felt something I haven't felt in a long time: excited. Not anxious. Not cautious. Excited. The simple, unprotected excitement of someone who is about to walk into a restaurant and meet a person and see if the voice on the phone matches the man in the chair. Saturday. I'm going on a date on Saturday.

Frank has been with me through two years of early mornings and nervous baking sessions, and this week he finally gave me something worth celebrating — so instead of stopping at a plain loaf, I kept the momentum going and made a batch of sourdough English muffins, the kind with deep nooks that hold butter in little golden pools. There’s something about having your hands busy with dough when your head is spinning with Saturday-night anticipation that just works. If I can coax a wild, living starter into something this good, I can walk into a restaurant in the North End and see what happens.

Prep Time: 20 minutes + 8–12 hours rise | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: ~12 hours | Servings: 12 muffins

Ingredients

1 cup (240g) active sourdough starter (fed and bubbly)
3/4 cup warm whole milk (about 110°F)
1 tablespoon honey
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled
1 teaspoon fine sea salt
2 1/2 cups (300g) all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
Cornmeal, for dusting the pan

Instructions

Mix the dough. In a large bowl, stir together the sourdough starter, warm milk, honey, and melted butter until combined. Add the salt and flour and mix until a shaggy dough forms. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap or a damp towel and let it rest at room temperature for 8 to 12 hours, or overnight, until the dough has risen and looks bubbly and airy.
Add the baking soda. Sprinkle the baking soda over the dough and knead gently for about 1 minute to incorporate it fully. The dough will be slightly tacky — resist adding too much extra flour.
Shape the muffins. On a lightly floured surface, roll or pat the dough out to about 1/2-inch thickness. Use a 3-inch round cutter (or the rim of a glass) to cut out rounds. Re-roll scraps once to cut additional muffins. You should get about 12.
Coat and rest. Dust a baking sheet generously with cornmeal. Place the cut rounds on the sheet, dust the tops with more cornmeal, and cover loosely. Let them rest for 20 to 30 minutes while you preheat a griddle or cast-iron skillet over low-medium heat.
Cook the muffins. Lightly grease the griddle with butter or neutral oil. Cook the muffins in batches for about 8 to 10 minutes per side, keeping the heat low so the centers cook through before the exteriors over-brown. They are done when both sides are deep golden and the internal temperature reaches 200°F.
Cool and fork-split. Transfer to a wire rack and let cool for at least 10 minutes before splitting. Always use a fork to split sourdough English muffins — it tears the crumb open and creates those signature nooks that hold butter.
Serve. Toast split muffins and top with good salted butter. Store leftovers at room temperature in an airtight bag for up to 3 days, or freeze for up to 2 months.

Nutrition (per serving)

Sourdough English Muffins — The Loaf That Taught Me to Feel Excited Again