Even the few steps between my front door and Lena’s were enough to send rivulets of water down the back of my neck. I let myself in, calling out a greeting, and as I slipped off my wet shoes, the air conditioning and the damp made me shiver. Lena’s house was a two-story, designed by the same builder as ours but with a larger dining room and formal living room, which had been transformed into an office. Right inside the front door, there was a huge desk of golden wood and a desktop computer for “business stuff,” but I’d never seen her working there.

I followed Lena’s answering greeting and the smell of something rich and inviting into the kitchen. She said, “I’ve got a pot of beans on for soup, and I thought we’d bake some bread, if you’re up for it.”

“Sure.” I thought of my favorite little corner bakery in Jersey, where the man behind the counter wore a white apron and the glass shelves displayed loaves and rolls of every shape. “Isn’t it hard?”

“Not if you know how.” She pointed to a glass jar on the counter, filled with what looked like library paste. “Sourdough starter. That one goes back twenty years, from one my aunt uses. She always says that as long as you’ve got dried beans, flour, and a starter, you’re not too far from a good dinner.”

“Hey, if you say so, I’m all in. But I have absolutely zero culinary talent.” I went to the sink to wash my hands.

Under Lena’s direction, I mixed the flour and salt, then added the starter, stirring until I had a shaggy mass of yeasty, tangy dough in my bowl.

“Won’t the starter die now?” I could see a few bubbles around the edges of the jar.

“Nah. I’ll just stir in a cup each of flour and water and let it sit overnight. Here.” Lena reached under the counter and pulled out another mason jar. With the same wooden spoon, she scraped about half of the starter into the new jar. “You take this one.”

“I can’t. I’ll kill it.”

“Don’t be stupid. Just leave it on your counter until tomorrow morning, then stick it in the fridge. Every two weeks or so, give it a stir, toss or use about a cup of it, then add another cup each of flour and water, like I just did. Simple. The only thing you’ll kill is the part you throw out. But you’ll love this bread so much you’ll be using your starter all the time.”