It’s owner had such high hopes for its future when she thrust the bag of bubbly white Amish Friendship Bread starter into my reluctant arms. “You love to bake? Here! It’s on Day 6.” Her trust in me was misplaced. I stared at the bag, then scanned the instructions and the recipe. Boxed pudding mix? One cup of oil? What?
I could have tweaked the recipe. I could have fed it some heartier flour. But I failed. It’s now Day 12, and I’m sorry to report that due to inept care the Amish Friendship Bread starter has met its demise. After a proper memorial, it was placed in the receptacle.