Sourdough #1

The Dough Down

West Coast breeders apparently thought, "What if bread got you baked?" The result is Sourdough #1, a mid-2010s pheno-hunt winner that crosses Diesel’s lemony gas with Cookie-grade doughiness. The #1 means "we kept the one that smelled most like a panic-buying spree at Whole Foods."

Effects: From Kneaded to Needed

Starts with a clear-headed zip like you just sniffed espresso grounds, then the indica yeast rises. Within 30 minutes your limbs feel proofed, your eyelids weigh 3 lbs each, and any ambitious plans are toast. Functional enough to order DoorDash, too relaxed to answer the door when it arrives.

Flavor & Aroma: Carb Loading

Nose: sour starter + lemon zest + someone spilled 91 octane. Taste: toasted crust, tangy yogurt, and a peppery backend like the baker forgot to wash the diesel off their hands. Room note will have neighbors convinced you’re either baking or committing arson.

Growing: Proofing Tips

Medium-tall, branchy, and likes a good scrog like grandma liked a good apron. 8-9 weeks flower, golf-ball nugs glazed in resin so thick it looks like powdered sugar. Cool temps bring out purple frosting—great for Instagram, terrible if you forgot to check trichomes. Trims easy; resin heads survive washing if you’re into hash that tastes like a sourdough bowl.

Medical: Gluten-Free Relief

Patients report swapping anxious racing thoughts for carb-coma calm. Knocks out minor aches, insomnia, and the urge to doom-scroll. Appetite boost is real—keep actual sourdough nearby or you’ll eat the wallpaper. Great for PTSD, chronic pain, and people who want their Xanax to taste like bakery.

Who Should Toke This

Perfect for bakers, carb lovers, and anyone whose ideal evening is loafing around. Skip if you’ve got a Planet Fitness plan after 7 p.m. or if the smell of fresh bread makes you confess secrets. Otherwise, rise, inhale, and let the dough do the rest.