Sourdough Bread
This sourdough recipe is a hybrid of my old go-to and new methods I’ve learned recently. It’s given me wonderful and consistent results for a beautifully open crumb.
Stick to one recipe and and use it until you understand it and know it well.
This was one of the first lessons I learned when I started baking sourdough bread. It made a lot of sense since there seem to be as many recipes/techniques as there are bakers–no single recipe is the right one–or the best one. Couple this with the variables that can affect the outcome of each bake–time, temperature, type of flour, strength of the starter, the experience of the baker–it would be nearly impossible to troubleshoot the problem.
Many loaves later and after countless hours of reading various sourdough books and online resources it finally made sense that because of the aforementioned variables, the time prescribed in any sourdough recipe should only be considered a guide, not a rule. My bakes improved accordingly.
As I’ve grown to understand how the recipe will respond based on the set of variables thrown at it and with more experience and confidence, the recipe has evolved. For my bakes I now usually use less starter (levain, leaven) and follow a much shorter bulk fermentation time. These days I’m a lot more flexible with the autolyse period and all my loaves are retarded in the fridge overnight while final proof has been cut much shorter.
These changes have been documented here over the years (links below) and the two months of sheltering in place have inspired more reading (also Youtube watching) and have prompted self-imposed challenges which have led to me picking up new techniques along the way. The results have been wonderful and consistent so I’ve shamelessly (but hopefully not pretentiously) decided to call this hybrid of old and new (to me) methods my master recipe.
This recipe has been hitting high marks in the categories that sourdough bakers deem important: optimum fermentation, great oven spring, caramelized crust, open airy crumb, taste.
I’m sharing this recipe here for me so this formula doesn’t get lost in the mountain of notes I’ve collected of my bakes.
And also because I’ve got a dear friend who shares my love of naturally-leavened bread who will text or email to tell me about her most recent sourdough experience or to pass along a sourdough-related resource that she thinks I might enjoy. She is genuinely interested in hearing about what made today’s bake different than the day before (she’s fabulous all around, really). She is the one who, during one of her recent visits to New York City, when she was gifted a grande dame of a sourdough starter by a restaurant chef, thought to share it with me so she carried a portion of Regina with her on a plane and presented it to me when we got together in Park City this past winter.
She is also the one who will say, “Jean, why don’t you give this sourdough recipe a try and let me know how it goes.” I always happily oblige. She’s my sourdough buddy and I promised to post this recipe. So here it is, Georganne, to replace my cryptic handwritten notes. I used my Georgina in this recipe; until we are in the same city, under the same roof and we can play in the kitchen once again.
Notes About this Recipe:
- Sourdough Terms/Techniques: This recipe assumes you are familiar with certain sourdough terminology and techniques. If you are just beginning your sourdough journey I suggest visiting the links below to read my sourdough baking guide and other recipes with helpful information.
- Bulk Fermentation: The success of this recipe or any other sourdough recipe depends a lot on time and temperature. A warmer kitchen will accelerate fermentation and a cooler one will extend it. The times indicated in this recipe are based on my room temperature ranging between 74-80ºF.
- Cold Retard: Bulk fermentation at room temperature is followed by an overnight cold retard (storing in the refrigerator), which on average for me is 16 hours. This time is flexible so you can shorten this stage or extend it based on your schedule.