Baking bread came as a gift. Literally. Among the stack of wedding gifts we found a copy of Chad Richardson's second book, Tartine No. 3, that outlined how to make delicious breads with ancient and heirloom grains. The first try was a disaster. So was the second. The third resembled a pancake, the fourth a brick, but the fifth showed promise—thanks to the lively advice of a friend: "Bread isn't a recipe. It's a living, breathing thing. Throw out the books and feel the dough!" Sort of new-agey (if you remember the moniker). Sort of spot on, too. Over the next weeks, free-form experimentation took the place of slavish recipe-following, and pretty soon the pancakes and bricks gave way to lively doughs, crispy crusts and an open, chewy crumb. We were baking so much bread we were giving away loaves to friends. And then we started getting requests for Monday bread and then for Friday bread. When another friend pointed out the obvious—"Start a bakery!"—the idea for Ferment was born.