The next definite course is a week-long effort at a castle in Umbria from 30 March to 6 April 2020. Details coming soon. I’ll try to get another one-day course here in Rome organised for January or February 2020.
I know I use the words sourdough, starter and leaven sloppily. I know which I mean when, but that doesn’t help people who are just beginning. So, I thought I would clarify with an example.
This week’s big bake will amount to 3 kg of dough, and my formula calls for 33% of that to be pre-fermented leaven. So, I need to build about 950 gm of leaven. For this particular bread, I always use the white flour starter that I keep at 100% hydration. I know that I’ve got about 100 gm of starter in the fridge, because I refreshed it just last week.
So, I remove 75 gm of the starter and mix it with 150 gm of flour and 150 gm of water. 1:2:2 in ratio terms. That keeps the hydration at 100% and does not give the starter too much to chew on as it becomes the first build of leaven.
At the same time, I now have only 25 gm of starter left. I could leave it at that and stick it back in the fridge, but I refresh that too. That means adding 50 gm of flour and 50 gm of water, exactly the same ratios as the first build.
Both of them will stay out now for about 12 hours; it is getting cold here. Then this evening, the starter will go back in the fridge. The first build, which currently weighs 375gm, will get 290 gm of flour and 290 gm of water, takings the amount of the second build up to 955 gm, which gives me a slight excess to work with.
Tomorrow, I’ll use all the leaven to raise the sourdough, which won’t be at all sour.
Excellent day all around. Latteria Studio really is an excellent space in which to cook, to talk and to relax. I got in early this morning to set everything up and get my thoughts in order. It’s a calm time, not quite on auto-pilot but going through a routine I’ve gone through before and which I can do with confidence. So that’s what I did, laying out each person’s space, the communal stuff, checking that we had everything we needed. As start time approached, I turned to get the coffee going and that was the only brief moment of panic. No gas. A quick call later and all was good, with the coffee pot singing its burpalicious little song just as the guests arrived.
We had a quick coffee, went briefly through the outline of the day and got down to work. For the one-day course, I have to make the leaven the day before. There just isn’t time otherwise. I also weigh out the flour to speed things along. Still, there’s enough practice using electonic scales to measure the water and salt, and then its on to mixing and kneading, and getting people used to the idea of using their body weight, not their arms or, worse yet, their fingers. These were accomplished kneaders though, and we soon had three lovely, plump, smooth balls of dough ready to rest and rise.
I then did a quick batch of my focaccia dough, which is very liquid and benefits from 10% wholewheat flour and only 10 gm of olive oil in the mix. I also like to stir some rosemary into the dough because it infuses the whole piece with its aroma.
And then the talk; on leavens, wheat and flour, salt and water and, of course, the magic that turns those into bread. I’m not super good at expressing the motivations of creation and transformation and self-sufficiency, even though I feel them deeply, but I think it comes across. By then it was time for the focaccia to go into the oven, the risen dough to be shaped, and the delicious lunch Alice had prepared. The foccacia did not disappoint.
Proved bread into the oven and more talk touching on the history of the industrial processes that underpin inexpensive supermarket bread, and what we exchange for low cost and convenience.
The pleasure of seeing people take their first loaf out of the oven never leaves me and, I hope, will spur them to continue. Finally, they recite The Pledge as they receive their portion of my starter, just as I recited it when I received my portion a decade or so ago.
I bake two of my smaller loaves at a time, on a baking stone, and with boiling water in a pan at the bottom of the oven to provide steam for the first half of the bake. In the past, I’ve noticed that sometimes one of the loaves has a fine ear while the other doesn’t. I’ve assumed that this is some quirk of shaping, which I am still not that good at, because other than that the two loaves are treated more or less identically. Then yesterday, as I took these two loaves out of the oven, a thought occurred to me.
The one that didn’t get an ear, the score was facing the oven wall. The one that did, the score was facing the middle of the oven.
The oven is gas fired, but still, most of the heat, I understand, is radiating from the walls. So, could being closer to the hot wall set the score before oven bloom could lift up that flap?
Next batch, I made sure that both scores were facing the centre. A little tricky, that, as I score after I place the loaf on the peel, so I had to do one left-handed. And lo, both loaves developed a fine ear.
This is just a single observation, of course, to be repeated in weeks to come, which will help with the left-handed blade use. Still, I can’t help but think I’m onto something.
Searching around, I found one discussion that early steaming gives better ears. I’ve always believed that to be true, because steaming helps keep the skin pliable longer. For that reason, I have always pre-steamed the oven for a minute or two before putting in the loaves, and I also give the loaves a quick spray of water just before they go in. Seems to me, though, that with this kind of improvised steam system, the position of the loaf in the oven also makes a difference. But is that the only factor?
Save the Date: 17 November 2019
After offering courses in private homes, this summer saw the first one-day course here in Rome. Latteria Studio provides a beautiful space in which a maximum of six people can share in the joy of homemade sourdough bread. This is first and foremost a practical, hands-on day. However, we use the time while the starter is working its magic to explore the history of wheat and bread and the details of how to care for and use a starter culture.
The first order of business is to make your dough. Step by step, I will guide you through the process, along the way explaining why we do what we do. If you have never made a loaf before you will be amazed at how a little effort transforms four simple ingredients into a living dough. And even if you are an experienced baker, there are bound to be new insights.
The secret of great bread
We’ll talk about that, and while your bread quietly does its thing we’ll also talk about wheat, and flour and sourdough leavens. I’ll demonstrate some other techniques and make the bread we will eat for lunch.
I’ve been baking bread on and off for the past 50 years. Some time before 1989 I made my first sourdough starter, and it has been with me ever since, travelling from Somerset in England to Italy. I’m also a biologist and so I have a good understanding of what is going on in the starter and in the bread.
You will leave with your own delicious loaf of handmade bread, plus:
- a “Tuscan” sourdough starter that may or may not be more than 110 years old;
- instructions on how to feed and care for your starter and how to use it to bake more bread;
- an understanding of why I put “Tuscan” in scare quotes;
- a few other recipes;
- maybe some other treats.
And you will have a great day, with good food, in good company.
The day costs 120€, which includes lunch. All you need to do is turn up. Tickets are 60 € in advance, balance to be paid on the day. Cancel up to 72 hours before for a full refund. There will be gluten.