This is a blow by blow record of the making of the first loaf made with the sourdough culture described in this post.
The culture yielded 10 portions, one of which I retained, the rest were frozen. I mixed the remaining portion with 100ml lukewarm water, and 50g each dark rye flour and strong white flour, both stoneground organic, from Shipton Mill.
Within minutes it was bubbling away and, after a couple of hours, I put it in the fridge to keep for the following day, when I made a loaf with it to this recipe (I’m actually typing this as I go, so you’ll get real-time details of its progress). I kept a portion so I could see if one would work, rather than the two I suggested previously.
So, take
:-
400g strong white flour
100g dark rye (wholemeal) flour
240ml lukewarm water
1 scant teaspoon malt extract, dissolved in the water
4 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2 teaspoons fine sea salt.
I removed the culture from the fridge as soon as I got up, to make bread after lunch. Once it had warmed a little, the fermentation restarted nicely.
I scraped the culture, which by then was light and spongy, into the bowl of my mixer at about 12.45, added the water, and using the beater (not the dough hook yet), beat it until smooth, then began to add the flour, a heaped tablespoon at a time, scraping down the mixer bowl as necessary (mixers always leave a thin layer of unmixed flour behind). When rather more than half the flour was added, and the beater started to bog down, I pulled it out, scraped off the dough (fingers work best), and replaced it with the dough hook.
Rye makes quite a robust dough so, after letting the machine run for a few more minutes, and scraping down the bowl again, I gave up on the mixer, and tipped everything into my normal mixing bowl (scraping out anything clinging to the mixer bowl), and proceeded as normal, mixing the dough, in the bowl, with my hands until all but a few bits were incorporated, then tipped it out onto the worktop (as always, previously scrubbed and dried). There’s no need to dust the surface with flour, or coat with oil – if your hydration is right, it won’t stick, except very slightly at the beginning, and a bench knife fixes that. If it persists in staying a little bit sticky (the way flour behaves is immensely variable), dust the dough all over with a tiny amount of white bread flour – I use a tea-strainer kept for the purpose.
I worked the dough, bringing back any bits that made a bid for freedom, until I had a homogeneous ball, then kneaded it until smooth (or as smooth as wholemeal rye can be – it feels very gritty). Then I formed it into a ball, sat it on a circle of baking parchment, flattened it into a thick disc, put it back into the bowl, and covered it closely with clingfilm.
Then, because the sourdough leaven was unlikely to be as robust as yeast, I decided to baby it a little (not least because I’d forgotten both the olive oil and, more importantly from the rising aspect, the malt!). I sat the steel bowl on a folded bar towel inside a plastic bowl (which I keep for protecting proving dough – especially in the winter, to keep off draughts), then pushed a loosely-folded clean tea-towel (again, kept just for breadmaking), into the bowl, and put a baking sheet on top of everything, and another clean tea-towel over that.
The dough would now have a draught-free, warm-ish, environment in which to prove (you don’t need to keep rising dough warm by putting it in the airing cupboard or by a radiator – yeast, even sourdough, likes the same temperature as you do). I don’t know how long it will take but, as I type these words, it’s not doing anything much. I estimate it will take at least an hour, maybe two, so I’ll return to this narrative when it’s completed its first proving.
2 hours later, still not risen. Speed is the enemy of good bread, but this is way too slow, so clearly two portions of the culture are needed. And the damn malt!
Now 3 hours – signs of life, and a slight rise, but at this rate it’ll take too long to rise properly. I’m making a normal loaf to tide me over, as I’m out of bread.
6 hours and it’s risen enough to knock it back, knead briefly and shape it for its second proving. It’s now 19.00, so there’s a chance I might get this baked tonight – I’m not putting money on it though.
Finally, 22.50 and it’s in the oven, for 35 minutes at 200C. Not risen as much as I’d like, but as good as it’s going to get.
23.25. Out of the oven and it looks great – with oven-spring increasing the size by a good 20%, or so.
Conclusion: it most definitely will take 2 portions of culture to get a loaf in anything like a normal time-frame (and not forgetting the malt extract next time will speed things up!), but it looks good, smells wonderful and, once it’s cooled, I’m sure it’ll taste fine. Without oil it’ll be a bit chewy but, what the hell, for a first try, making a loaf entirely without yeast, other than the natural yeast from the grain, I reckon it’s pretty damn good.
Footnote: For this loaf I reverted to a naturally-shaped loaf (without a brotform or loaf tin), just formed into a ball and left to rise into a domed shape. I’ve not been happy with the crust from brotform loaves – it’s very thick – whereas the crust made without a container to shape the bread, which I rub with olive oil, is light and crisp.
There’s no doubt that the brotforms give a better-shaped loaf, though, so in future, instead of dusting the inside of the brotform with flour, I’ll leave it bare and oil the dough instead. See how that works out.
My one worry is that oil which soaks into the brotforms will go rancid in time, so I might buy some new ones, and varnish them inside, so prevent oil being absorbed – if I can find a food-friendly varnish.
