Ferris Bueller had it right. Time does move pretty fast. My time spend up considerably the last few weeks prior to my class time starting (which now means Zoom time) at McAfee School of Theology and the doctoral work I’m doing there. Needless to say, my time in the kitchen was “altered.” I was still baking and cooking most days, just not chronicling it as I have been. Yet, here we are attempting to the right the ship. And with the concept of time already presented, I thought it about time to post what many tried to master during the pandemic; sourdough bread.
I confess bread is intimidating. Months ago my spouse Lauren gifted me a book that was rich and detailed in the art of bread baking, but I felt overwhelmed by all the steps and processes. It’s one thing to make a simple bread by throwing in some fast-acting yeast. It’s an entirely different matter when one tries to cultivate natural or “wild” yeast. Time has to be on your side. Whereas cornbread, biscuits, and zucchini bread can be knocked out in under an hour, sourdoughs take daaaaays. Especially if you’re starting from scratch. My lack of confidence months ago attributed to me shelving that book. Making and feeding a “starter” felt overwhelming. Am I feeding it too much, too little? What’s the temperature in the house? Do I need to let it rise in the oven with the light on? So many questions that I just didn’t know and some I would find out only experience could answer. In those early days, I stumbled through some baguette recipes that could be deemed as passable. I soon found other cooking and baking endeavors as I was (and still am) enamored with all things Appalachian. Lauren, sensing this gifted me yet another book, Southern Ground. The precise detail is still present, but a few things have changed for me that have spurred my zeal. For one, I’m just a bit more comfortable with my skill in the kitchen. I’m learning and that learning has boosted my confidence. The other change is that I took a class with Kendall Vanderslice the creator of “Edible Theology.” Kendall offered wisdom and reassurance and helped with some foundational baking blocks I needed. With things falling into place, I thought “to hell with it” let’s make some sourdough.
*The recipe, particularly the amounts, are from the work/mind of Jennifer Lapidus. I’ve altered the ingredients due to what was available to me in my current location.
Ingredients
Water, King Arthur Whole Wheat Flour, King Arthur Bread Flour, Salt (amounts given in the following steps)
First, you have to get a “culture” going. This is what will produce/become your “starter.” This will take around 5 days to make, and yes you heard that right. 5 days.
On the first day, combine 60 grams of whole wheat flour and 80 grams of filtered water together in a small jar or container.
On the second day, you’ll add nothing, but open and give the contents a good stir.
For the next 3 days, you’ll follow a pattern that will look like this,
Pour 80 grams of water into a new jar/container
Remove 50 grams of your “starter” and place it in the new jar with water. Mix well.
Add 60 grams of whole wheat flour.
Again, you’ll repeat this process for the next 3 days. When I mix everything together I like to take a small spatula and push down any starter hanging onto the sides of the container. I also like marking the level in the container with a rubber band. As you can see from the image above, the starter grew well past its initial mark.
By day 5 or 6, you should be in business and ready to make your “leaven” or natural/wild rising agent.
For your leaven, you’ll need,
91 grams of water
18 grams of your starter
91 grams of whole wheat flour
Pour the water into a new container, then add your 18 grams of starter. Mix well. Then add your flour. You’re going to have a fair amount of starter leftover. Simply throw it in the fridge until you’re ready to use it again. Starters can last for a while in the fridge, I’ve heard some lasting as long as a month. I tend to make bread once or twice a week right now. When I do, I pull the starter out, feed it once with the 80/50/60 portions listed above and allow it to sit for several hours or overnight and you’re good to go.
8-10 hours after you’ve made your leaven you can then make your dough. You’ll need a large bowl and,
271 grams of water
181 grams of your leaven (this is usually about all of it)
376 grams of bread flour
12 grams of sea salt
In the bowl add the water and then your leaven. Mix well. Add your bread flour. I use a spatula, mixing the dough from the outside, turning it in upon itself. You should end up after a few minutes with something resembling the above. Cover the dough with a kitchen towel or container lid and allow it to sit for 45 minutes. Thus begins your 3 hour bulk fermentation.
After 45 minutes, add 12 grams of sea to the dough.
With the salt added, use the spatula again to fold the dough back in on itself like before, fully incorporating the salt. Cover the dough again and let it rest.
Now for the next 2.5(ish) hours your going to stretch and then rest your dough about every 30-45 minutes. I usually do this about 4 times in the 2.5hr window. You’ll want to wet your folding hand with water so that it won’t stick to the dough. You’ll pull/stretch the dough almost to the point of breaking, then fold it down on top of itself. I work “in a circle.” Check it out below.
After your final fold, you’ll let the dough rest and rise for another 1-1.5 hours. Then on a flour-dusted surface, dump your dough out and roll/stretch it to build tension. A little flour on top of the dough doesn't hurt either.
You’ll then shape the dough into a compact ball, like below. Cover the dough with a kitchen towel for 30 minutes there on the workspace.
After 30 minutes, transfer the dough to a well-floured 9” proofing bowl with the seams up. I’ve got an actually proofing bowl with a slipcover, but if you don’t you can use a similar size bowl. Just throw a nice thin kitchen towel in for a liner and dust it with the flour. Cover and let it sit at room temperature for 3 hours before transferring to the fridge for 6-8 hours or overnight.
Preferably the next morning, remove from the fridge and allow to come to room temp while your oven heats. Before turning your oven to 500 degrees, place a dutch oven with lid (removed) on the lowest rack. Let heat for 45min-hour.
Grab some parchment paper and sprinkle some ground cornmeal on it. Remove the dough from the proofing basket and place the seam down right on top of the cornmeal. Take a sharp knife or a bread lame and make a few slits on the top of the dough. Place parchment with dough inside the hot dutch oven with lid on top. Bake at 500 degrees for 20 minutes, remove lid, and bake for another 20 minutes.
With a combination of skill and luck, you’ll end up with something like this. If you can wait for it to cool a bit before slicing, do. If you have a toddler who demands “Bread and Butter”…do what you have to do!
Chewing the Fat…
Talk about a long-drawn-out process, right? I got a few extra blinks from neighbors when I told them it took me over a week to make this bread. Yes, it goes much faster when you have a starter already at hand, but still, if you want bread on Saturday morning you have some prepping to do on Friday. For me, I think it’s safe to say that the learning curve to discover the virtue of waiting is a struggle. Whether it’s my current life stage or season of living, multiple-day projects in the kitchen just take more of an effort. Yet, as with anything cooking/baking related I try and ask myself, “what am I learning here?” Sure I’m getting the hang of making bread, but just like the dough, I’m learning about being stretch and that a healthy bit of tension is a good thing. Faith needs tension too. Being intentional about entering “head and heart spaces” that encourage tension is what has made my faith perspective grow. Those are difficult spaces to exist in at times, but bread baking teaches the importance of rest as part of this process too.
So I encourage you, don’t be afraid to tackle something that requires you to spend a fair amount of time waiting. Don’t be afraid to be stretched and don’t be afraid to ask for rest. These things allow us to “rise” and later “sing”…something hot bread does when it comes out of the oven.
Here’s to the invitation to wait, to be stretched, to rise, and to sing.
As you were,
~tBSB