A quick note to sing the praises of yeast, a paean to fermentation.
I was up early this morning, in the quiet. I was puttering around the kitchen, considering the relative merits of tea or coffee when I heard this odd popping sound.
Very soft, but somehow distinct.
I have fairly good hearing--especially considering my love of metal rock and opera--so I tracked the sound to the white pale in front of the old desk.
The cider--last night's labor of love--was merrily bubbling away, popping and off-gassing in the airlock.
Such a nice feeling. After the apple prep and the pasteurization process and the expensive yeast, it was a bit of a relief to hear that fermentation song.
Ah, I sing a song of fermentation, of the flesh of fruit and the active yeast!
3 hours ago