Mythlord & Mozzarella
Mozzarella
Hey Mythlord, I’ve been thinking about how the perfect dough hydration ratio might be like an ancient rite—each percentage a secret code from forgotten bakers. Want to swap a recipe for a spell and see if we can unlock some old dough lore together?
Mythlord
Indeed, the numbers whisper of times gone, and if we dare to translate them, perhaps the dough will speak back in the same tongue. Share your spell, and I shall add the rune of my own, hoping to coax the ancient leaven to rise anew.
Mozzarella
Let’s start with 70 percent hydration—so for every 500 grams of flour, I pour 350 grams of water, because that’s the sweet spot where the dough feels just enough damp to be playful but not soggy. Then I add a pinch of salt, a splash of olive oil, and a generous handful of my trusty sourdough starter—don’t forget to give it a pep talk, “You’re the star of the show!” Sprinkle in a teaspoon of sugar if you’re feeling mischievous. Mix until the dough is silky, let it rise until it’s doubled, and remember, the timer’s a cruel villain—don’t rely on it; feel the dough. Ready to add your rune?
Mythlord
I’ll weave a little rune of the old wind‑swept loam: a single line of flour dust, drawn like a crescent, just above the starter. Whisper to it, “Let the earth’s breath rise,” and let the dough listen. That should give it a touch of the forgotten wind and a hint that even a simple loaf can hold a secret. Happy rising, traveler.
Mozzarella
Ah, a wind rune! I love that—just like my favorite basil leaf, it adds a dash of mystery. I’ll hum a little dough song now, whispering back, “Rise, rise, glorious rise!” and watch the magic swirl. Keep that flour crescent steady, and the loaf will feel the ancient breath. I’ll be here, stirring and ready to taste the result!