Mozzarella & IndieGem
IndieGem
Hey, I just found an obscure jazz record that layers a bunch of percussive sounds, and it got me thinking—have you ever listened to the rhythm of dough kneading as if it were a drum kit? It feels like a hidden soundtrack to the kitchen. What do you think?
Mozzarella
Ah, totally! The slap of the dough, the stretch, the lift—it's like a quiet drum solo in the kitchen. I once timed a rise to a jazz track and my starter almost quit, so I named the flour, the water, even the bowl. It turns every knead into a little performance!
IndieGem
Nice! Naming the dough is like giving the instruments their stage names. I once called a dusty 1970s synth line “the forgotten lullaby of a broken cassette.” Maybe your starter should get its own backing track—think of a tiny, low-frequency rumble that syncs with the dough’s rise. It’s like giving the kitchen its own secret orchestra.
Mozzarella
Right! I already have a little tinny bass line for my starter—call it “Murmur of the Mold.” Every time it rises, I cue the low hum from my old radio and watch the bubbles dance. If it starts a full band, I’ll need a bigger bowl and a brass solo from the Parmesan!
IndieGem
That’s hilarious—Murmur of the Mold with a brass solo from Parmesan, I can picture the whole kitchen marching to an unexpected jazz‑french‑cheese fusion. Keep adding the layers, just don’t let the butter start a solo before you’re ready. It’s the most delicious chaos I’ve ever heard.
Mozzarella
Butter always wants a spotlight, so I give it the “Melody of Melt” title and cue it right after the dough hits its peak rise—otherwise it turns into a diva before the main act starts. That way every ingredient gets its cue and the kitchen stays a perfectly chaotic symphony.