Sourdough: in my mind the word
conjures fragrant loaves, spongy insides and crusty outsides, belly filling,
mouth chewing, a pungent sour taste pervading my senses, stirring me back to
the days before commercial yeast; before unWonderbread and its kind; before
cars polluted the air and concrete lined the streets; when nights meant
candles burning or light but by the moon.
Imagine – we humans can still share with our ancestors the same experience of waiting patiently for dough to rise, for the heat of our ovens to bake the forms, of breaking open a loaf of fresh sourdough bread to be shared with friends and family. This experience has been common for thousands of years. We can connect with the past, carry on the traditions of old, and pass on our own experiences to the next generation to help keep the bond between humans and the living world strong.
Imagine – we humans can still share with our ancestors the same experience of waiting patiently for dough to rise, for the heat of our ovens to bake the forms, of breaking open a loaf of fresh sourdough bread to be shared with friends and family. This experience has been common for thousands of years. We can connect with the past, carry on the traditions of old, and pass on our own experiences to the next generation to help keep the bond between humans and the living world strong.
What follows is a brief history of
yeast cultivation, anecdotes of my own experiences with sourdough, as well as
a researched plan - call it an amalgamation of thoughts and ideas culled from many
sources - that will, with a little luck and some of that good old-fashioned
patience, help you begin your own journey in sourdough baking.
A sourdough
starter, or leaven, is a simple mixture of flour and water. That’s it. No
commercial yeast, no sugar, no apples or grape scrappings, no milk: just flour
and water. According to Ed Wood (check out his website here: http://www.sourdo.com) in his excellent World Sourdoughs From Antiquity, the art of leavened bread, or
bread that rises due to the gaseous byproduct of yeast devouring the gluten in
the flour, thus lifting the dough, has been practiced for some five thousand
years.
A baker leaves her uncooked flatbread
dough out in the sun, forgetting to return for quite a few hours; wild yeast
from the air is attracted and gathers; the once flat bread rises; the baker
returns and is amazed at the magic of… the gods? spirits in the air? ancient
aliens?
Whatever they may have believed or
known, and however many times similar accidents like this it took, eventually
humans figured out that, first, leaving out a mixture of flour and water will
create a rise in bread, and second, that keeping some of the original flour and
water mixture – what we call leaven or starter – speeds up the process. In
other words, instead of creating a new leaven each time one wants to bake,
humans figured out that the leaven could be fed
flour and water to keep it alive. Because yeast is alive, just as the symbiotic
bacteria, lactobacilli, that lives within the leaven is alive. That, I believe, is the first
step in understanding sourdough: sourdough
is alive.
I first
came into conscious contact with sourdough bread at the Chaz, a community
living space in my college town a friend of a friend was living at on Charles
Street (thus, the Chaz). They composted their food waste, recycled as much as
humanly possible, reused and repurposed ‘trash’ in interesting and useful ways
to reduce waste, and grew as much food as possible in their half-acre plot out
back. They also had a weekly ‘Family Dinner,’ a get together of friends and
strangers where conversation was had over homecooked, whole food: a chance to
put down electronics and engage with people.
It was at the Chaz I learned the
importance of composting waste to reduce dependence on landfills, learned to
conserve energy use, (the Chaz was kept at a cool 55 degrees F in the winter)
and learned to be more self-sufficient. Eventually moving there for about a
year, I learned everything I know about sourdough from my friends Chris and
Alem, both aspiring bakers and inspiring humans (check out their blog here: http://yeastcoastbakery.blogspot.com).
Through watching my friends at the Chaz, I
learned one of the most important lessons related to sourdough: patience. Without patience, there can be
no sourdough bread. It takes time to start a leaven. It takes time to proof a
culture (more on proofing next week). It takes time for the dough to rise. It
takes time for dough to bake. If one is impatient during any of the steps, the
final bread will be compromised. It is of the upmost importance to be patient and caring with your sourdough. After all, sourdough is a living organism, so,
like all living creatures, should be treated with respect.
Now, there are two ways to start a
sourdough starter. The first is to buy a sourdough starter kit from a store or
online, follow the carefully laid out directions, and, after activating the
dormant culture, begin baking. I started a gluten free, brown rice starter with
a kit (more on gluten free baking later) and so far, the culture is activating wonderfully. A kit is a great way for a first time sourdough baker to become
acquainted with the taste, smell, and texture of sourdough leavens.
But for those of you more daring,
who want an authentic sourdough leaven unique to your location, starting your
own leaven from scratch is the only way. The culture inside the sourdough
starter kits is a specific culture cultivated in a specific area with its own
specific yeast and bacteria combination that, when reactivated and properly maintained,
is a stable environment. As far as my understanding goes, yeast from the air
cannot populate the leaven because the environment inside the leaven is
perfectly suited to the yeast and bacteria already living inside. They keep
others out in their cozy home of flour and water.
What this means is if you want a
sourdough leaven that is related to your environment, that is unique to the
place you live, you must start your own leaven.
Here’s a simple way of accomplishing this goal.
The ingredients you’ll need are as follows:
-- 1 bag of flour, preferably unbleached, unbromated flour like King
Arthur’s All Purpose Flour. You can certainly use whole-wheat flour, but I find
that it tends to be too heavy on its own. If you want, try a mix of 25% whole
wheat to 75% all-purpose.
-- Water: tap water will work perfectly fine, unless of course your
tap water is smelly and/or overly chlorinated. If so, use room temperature
bottled water (a two or three gallon container with a tap would be easiest).
-- 1 Container: glass works best as it is see through, which will be
important for determining the readiness of the leaven. I use an old washed out
peanut butter jar. Preferably, use a container with a wide mouth for ease of
stir.
-- A clean working area. This whole
process, especially in the early stages, is made much simpler if you can
designate a working area free from clutter and other materials. I tend to
clutter up the kitchen with my sourdough projects, to the chagrin of my
partner, but I find it easier to give the love and care the leaven needs in the
early stages when we have an area to call our own.
--A kitchen scale. If possible, use a kitchen scale to measure out
the flour and water for exactness. The mixture of flour and water is based on
what bakers call humidity level, with a recommended humidity level of 100%.
This means equal parts flour and water by weight. If you do not have a kitchen
scale, use the measurement of a ¼ cup of water to a ½ a cup of flour. This is
not exactly 100% humidity, but it is close enough.
-- A cloth and a hair tie. The cloth will fit over the jar with the
hair tie or rubber band keeping it secure.
- Patience. As I said before, patience is key. Without patience, this
project will fail.
To begin: Add 50 grams of water to
the container (or a ¼ cup if not using a scale). Add 50 grams of flour (or ½ a
cup of flour if not using a scale) and stir vigorously. Don’t worry if lumps
remain. For now, leave the mixture uncovered. Keep the container in a warm
place for 12 to 24 hours; the top of the fridge seems to be a popular spot.
As this point, you are waiting for
bubbles to form, the first signs of yeast accumulating. Sometimes this only
takes 8 hours, sometimes it takes up to 24 hours. [If after 48 hours, no bubbles
have formed on the surface of the mixture, compost the mixture and start over,
moving it to another spot. If another 48 hours goes by without bubbles forming, you may want to try switching
to a different flour.]
When the first bubbles form, feed
the starter. This consists of adding another 50 grams of water, mixing, then
adding 50 grams of flour (or, ¼ cup of water and a ½ cup of flour). Leave the
mixture for another 8 to 12 hours. After the second feeding, start covering the
mixture with the cloth secured by the hair tie or rubber band to keep out
unwanted dust.
From now on, each feeding will
consist of taking out half the starter and replacing it with fresh equal parts
flour and water by weight. If you don’t take out half the starter, you’ll
quickly end up with too much starter for your container.
At this stage, the starter is too
immature to begin using in any recipes. Therefore, I suggest composting the
starter you remove until the starter is at least 1 week old. After 1 week or
so, the leftover starter can be used in pancakes or waffles, or any other
recipe that calls for flour and water. It will add a nice sour flavor,
especially as the starter matures and fully develops its flavor profile as the
weeks go by. After about 2 weeks, you can begin keeping the starter in the
fridge, which slows down the yeast, meaning you will only have to feed it every
few days, or even just once a week.
For the first week, it is important
to feed the leaven every 8 to 12 hours. Like a wee baby, the leaven must be
looked after, coddled, and fed constantly. As the days pass, you should see
more and more bubbles forming. I started my leaven on a Monday with half all
purpose flour and half rye flour. By Saturday, I realized the rye was weighing
the leaven down and eliminated it from the subsequent feedings. By the
following Monday, the leaven showed signs of maturation, including a multitude
of bubbles 2 hours after feeding and an increasingly sour, but pleasant, smell.
By keeping up this process of
feeding every 8 to 12 hours, in about 1 week you should have mature enough
starter to begin using to create tasty dough. The flavor will continue to
improve and deepen as time goes on. Keep in mind, it may take up to 2 weeks
before the starter is mature enough to use.
Remember, although this process may
seem like a lot of work, the flavors and smells soon wafting from your kitchen
will make it all worth it. My specialty is pizza, and the sourdough I use as a
base forms a perfect crust with a complex flavor, chewy insides, and a nice
crusty outside. Biting into it is like a little slice of heaven.
Tune in next week for tips and
tricks on using your newly formed starter to begin experimenting with forming
dough and baking basic breads.
Thanks for reading and happy eating.