You don’t bring me flours anymore.

I was never one for flowers, not cut ones anyway. I liked them alive, thriving rather than contained and dying. I liked them when they were growing outside my window and their smell would slowly waft in on a warm spring day.

But things are always changing.

Now my preference is flours. Fresh, locally-milled flours. Ancient and heritage grains to be exact. 

Flour that makes sourdough breads that look, taste, and smell like this loaf. 

If you’re out here in the Texas Hill Country or near Austin, Texas and looking for some beautiful flours you won’t regret buying from Barton Springs Mill.

Tell them The Fermented Table sent ya.

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