I figure I’ve baked about 460 loaves of bread in the past three years — three each week, on average. I’ve made white breads, wheat breads, baguettes, focaccia, ciabatta, rye, sourdoughs, pretzels, breadsticks, batards, rolls, Brötchen, pizzas, calzone, and a number of embarrassing messes. I once had to cancel a pizza party, and call the plumber, after flushing an enormous glob of not-quite-pizza-dough down the decades-old plumbing in our apartment building in San Francisco. (This was an unsettling episode all around — I sat at home bored that night, and my downstairs neighbor couldn’t shower for three days.)
I’ve experimented with flours, salts, yeasts, and waters. I own thirteen types of grain and four types of malt. I have a collection of odd-smelling bubbling concoctions in the back of my refrigerator.
I purchase flour in 50-lb bags. Regularly.