Last fall, I read Nancy Silverton's Breads from the La Brea Bakery
and learned about the steps involved in making a sourdough starter and using it for bread baking. I read about it, but I didn’t actually do it. So, one of my goals for the new year was to make a sourdough starter and begin learning more about bread baking by actually baking it. I have now at least begun this adventure. Two weeks ago, I set about growing the culture and allowing it to ferment. There are different methods for creating sourdough starters, but I faithfully followed the exact steps in the La Brea book. This was completely new territory for me, and I had no idea if things were going ok or if I had a failure on my hands. I just continued to follow the instructions and kept my fingers crossed.
The culture was created from a mixture of water and bread flour with a pound of red grapes tied up in cheesecloth squished into it, and it was left to sit for a few days. On day four, the culture was refreshed with more flour and water, and it continued to ferment for five more days. During this time, the aroma ranged from nice and yeasty to a little sour and then back to mellow again. Just as it should. On day 10 when the grapes were removed, the mixture had separated and there was a yellow liquid on top. It appeared just right based on the description in the book. At this point, regular feedings began so as to build the culture into a starter. Again, there are different methods for this, but Silverton’s instructions involved three feedings per day with precise measurements for water and bread flour. I got a kitchen scale for Christmas for this very purpose. On day 15, the starter was ready for baking. I think I’ve never felt so clueless in the kitchen. I had no idea if it would work, or if I’d been feeding a big lump of glue for two weeks.
Continuing with my obsequious adherence to the instructions, I, of course, baked the first bread listed which is a basic loaf of country white. This bread requires two days of prepping and waiting. I was a little concerned because there is specific information in the book about room temperature, water temperature, dough temperature and how all need to be within a narrow range for success. We were having chilly nights, and my kitchen wasn’t as warm as it usually is, so I was nervous. I attempted to make the suggested adjustments by increasing the temperature of the water used, and waiting the maximum amount of time for each step of dough resting and rising. But still, I was anxious. A big, but precise, pile of bread flour was mixed by hand with the virgin starter, water at 81 degrees, and an exact amount of wheat germ. I then kneaded it by hand. Things looked ok to me. The autolyse, or period of rest for the dough, came and went. Salt was added and kneaded into the dough. And, it was time for the first rise. Four hours. It rose, but I sensed it wasn’t enough.
After the first rise, the dough was split into two, shaped, and the two boules should have been placed in cloth-lined proofing baskets of which I have none. I have no idea if that matters. I used two medium mixing bowls instead. They were left to proof at room temperature for an hour and then placed in the refrigerator to rest overnight. I still wasn’t seeing as much volume change in the dough as I thought I should, but I soldiered on.
Day two involved removing the bowls from the refrigerator, allowing the dough to come to room temperature, waiting through a final proof of three hours, and then finally, thank you, the dough blobs went into the blessed, 500 degree, water-spritzed oven. I was feeling very much like the Little Red Hen at this point. Did anyone else read that book as a child? It was great to get to read it to my niece a couple of years ago. Still love that story. So, my dough seemed flabby and short, but I baked it anyway. And, believe it or not, it ended up very much like bread. I don’t count this as a solid success because the loaves were a little denser than they should have been. It could have been due to a weak, new starter or a too cool room for proofing, but what I got in the end was indeed bread. It was crunchy on the outside and chewy on the inside. There were some holes like there were supposed to be throughout the loaf’s interior. It was bread, and it was mine. And, it was delicious toast for breakfast the next morning too.
My next adventure with the starter will be baking bagels. I’ve heard good things about the bagels in this book, so I’m looking forward to the attempt. I have to thank Chuck at The Knead for Bread for graciously taking the time to answer several questions and offer some great information. He also gave me excellent tips for maintaining my starter. I hope it’s still alive. It’s sitting in my refrigerator right now taunting me with the fact that only it knows its status. I’ll find out for sure in a week or so when the adventure continues.
and learned about the steps involved in making a sourdough starter and using it for bread baking. I read about it, but I didn’t actually do it. So, one of my goals for the new year was to make a sourdough starter and begin learning more about bread baking by actually baking it. I have now at least begun this adventure. Two weeks ago, I set about growing the culture and allowing it to ferment. There are different methods for creating sourdough starters, but I faithfully followed the exact steps in the La Brea book. This was completely new territory for me, and I had no idea if things were going ok or if I had a failure on my hands. I just continued to follow the instructions and kept my fingers crossed.The culture was created from a mixture of water and bread flour with a pound of red grapes tied up in cheesecloth squished into it, and it was left to sit for a few days. On day four, the culture was refreshed with more flour and water, and it continued to ferment for five more days. During this time, the aroma ranged from nice and yeasty to a little sour and then back to mellow again. Just as it should. On day 10 when the grapes were removed, the mixture had separated and there was a yellow liquid on top. It appeared just right based on the description in the book. At this point, regular feedings began so as to build the culture into a starter. Again, there are different methods for this, but Silverton’s instructions involved three feedings per day with precise measurements for water and bread flour. I got a kitchen scale for Christmas for this very purpose. On day 15, the starter was ready for baking. I think I’ve never felt so clueless in the kitchen. I had no idea if it would work, or if I’d been feeding a big lump of glue for two weeks.
Continuing with my obsequious adherence to the instructions, I, of course, baked the first bread listed which is a basic loaf of country white. This bread requires two days of prepping and waiting. I was a little concerned because there is specific information in the book about room temperature, water temperature, dough temperature and how all need to be within a narrow range for success. We were having chilly nights, and my kitchen wasn’t as warm as it usually is, so I was nervous. I attempted to make the suggested adjustments by increasing the temperature of the water used, and waiting the maximum amount of time for each step of dough resting and rising. But still, I was anxious. A big, but precise, pile of bread flour was mixed by hand with the virgin starter, water at 81 degrees, and an exact amount of wheat germ. I then kneaded it by hand. Things looked ok to me. The autolyse, or period of rest for the dough, came and went. Salt was added and kneaded into the dough. And, it was time for the first rise. Four hours. It rose, but I sensed it wasn’t enough.After the first rise, the dough was split into two, shaped, and the two boules should have been placed in cloth-lined proofing baskets of which I have none. I have no idea if that matters. I used two medium mixing bowls instead. They were left to proof at room temperature for an hour and then placed in the refrigerator to rest overnight. I still wasn’t seeing as much volume change in the dough as I thought I should, but I soldiered on.
Day two involved removing the bowls from the refrigerator, allowing the dough to come to room temperature, waiting through a final proof of three hours, and then finally, thank you, the dough blobs went into the blessed, 500 degree, water-spritzed oven. I was feeling very much like the Little Red Hen at this point. Did anyone else read that book as a child? It was great to get to read it to my niece a couple of years ago. Still love that story. So, my dough seemed flabby and short, but I baked it anyway. And, believe it or not, it ended up very much like bread. I don’t count this as a solid success because the loaves were a little denser than they should have been. It could have been due to a weak, new starter or a too cool room for proofing, but what I got in the end was indeed bread. It was crunchy on the outside and chewy on the inside. There were some holes like there were supposed to be throughout the loaf’s interior. It was bread, and it was mine. And, it was delicious toast for breakfast the next morning too.My next adventure with the starter will be baking bagels. I’ve heard good things about the bagels in this book, so I’m looking forward to the attempt. I have to thank Chuck at The Knead for Bread for graciously taking the time to answer several questions and offer some great information. He also gave me excellent tips for maintaining my starter. I hope it’s still alive. It’s sitting in my refrigerator right now taunting me with the fact that only it knows its status. I’ll find out for sure in a week or so when the adventure continues.
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