It was a warm summer's day in 1970.
In the Stadium Village walk-up apartment she shared with her graduate student husband, Lois Parker, a recent East Coast transplant, was undertaking a culinary experiment, one that would shape their family for the next half-century.
Working from a trusted source material — the "Sunset Cook Book of Breads" — Parker poured a cup of milk into a glass jar and placed it near an open kitchen window.
Twenty-four hours later, she stirred a cup of white flour into the milk, covered the jar with cheesecloth and let it sit near that same window for the next three or four days.
"It started to have a bubbly, spongy texture and a pleasantly sour aroma," she said. "A genuine Minneapolis sourdough was born."
Parker, then 25 years old, was a bread baking novice. Her mentor, Helen, was one of the first friends Parker made in Minneapolis and a woman familiar with the ins-and-outs of bread baking after growing up on a southern Minnesota farm.
"Of course, I'd never thought of sourdough," said Parker. "I don't know how wild yeast gets in the atmosphere. But I figured that with the Pillsbury A Mill, and lots of baking going around, that something would happen. I was intrigued. I like to know where things come from. I'm very interested in process."
No kidding. This is a woman who spent several years grinding her own wheat flour. "That got old," she said with a laugh.