Tag Archives: Bread

Sticking To The Sourdough

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Have you ever seen something on the Internet and thought “Oh, I’m going to try that!”?

I expect it would be something of an occupational hazard for a blogger as he/she flits about other blogs and sees places to travel, food to cook, crafts to make, crazy ideas to try. Even a case of “Oh, I like the way you did that, I’m going to use that in my next post.” would keep one busy.

One of the things that flitted across my screen on a regular basis from more than one blogger last year was sourdough.

It always looked delicious and I kept thinking, “Oh, I want to bake sourdough.” But even a tentative investigation revealed a time commitment for such an activity that was daunting to someone cramming in a year full of stuff.

Then, suddenly, it was the summer holidays, there wasn’t much I could do with slowly recovering broken ribs and there was a post from Elaine at foodbod about her year of sourdough.

“Right. Now is the time.” I thought.

So I set off to make a sourdough starter. Because I will never do things the easy way and just go and buy one.

I used this recipe but without the malt. And I just used tap water not spring water. And I didn’t measure the temperature of the water.

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You can already see where this is going, right?

My first loaf attempt looked like a cow pat. Fortunately, having three teenage boys, it still got eaten.

My second loaf attempt looked like an elephant pat. It also got eaten. But it wasn’t ideal.

I felt defeated and wrote this comment on Elaine’s post:

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Elaine was disappointed it had not worked out but urged me not to give up.

So I didn’t. It’s not really in my nature to easily let something defeat me anyway. Giving up because I’m bored, yes, but that’s on my terms.

For the next attempt, out of some desperation, I cheated and added a little dried yeast. It gave me a bigger loaf but it wasn’t really sourdough. Pedant Me was unhappy.

With further encouragement and advice from Elaine, I pushed on.

And I started to notice a change in my starter. There were more bubbles.

And then one day, my dough finally rose properly. Unfortunately, I had a busy social day and what I thought was going to be a 25C day turned into a 32C day and it over-proved. The loaf didn’t pop up the top like it should but at least it was the size of a sandwich loaf.

I was getting closer. And by accident, I discovered that leaving my starter out of the fridge and feeding it for two days rather than one gave me what I needed.

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Not just bubbly but frothy!

The next loaf was better but smaller than I intended because I got impatient and cooked it before it had risen enough.

And then, here’s what I managed yesterday:

Evolution of a Sourdough Fruit Loaf

Lovely bubbly starter
Dried fruit and spices added
The dough ready to prove
The next morning
Into the tin
Ready to bake
Voilà!

 

I had a piece toasted this morning for breakfast. It was delicious.

Now I’m completely obsessed with making sourdough. (I don’t think I’ll ever go on a No Carbs diet…)

So, thank you, Elaine, for encouraging me not to give up and for all your assistance. I’m sure the boys are equally grateful!

 

Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising up every time we fail.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

Rising. Get it? Bread….. rising…..

Sigh. Gosh, I’m hilarious.

And I can make sourdough.

 

 

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The Great Bread-Making Adventure

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The Great Bread Making Adventure

This was the great bread-making adventure of the century. Would you believe decade? Well, would you believe year? October?

Yes, okay, so it was the great bread-making adventure of Thursday morning…

I was sent the “Perfect Bread” recipe some time ago by my friend M-R, but I had thus far failed to undertake the task because:

a. It required a 2.5 litre lidded casserole dish that I do not possess.

b. It required an ability to plan in advance that I do not possess.

This, of course, was viewed very dimly by the great Margaret-Rose and through the usual haranguing and audible (all the way from Sydney) frustrated sighing, I found myself on Wednesday afternoon with a bowl and the necessary ingredients, inexplicably mixing up the first ever batch. In double quantity because the only receptacle I had was significantly larger than the required measurement.

And thus began the process of “baking by email” as I sent off panicked emails.

“Is it supposed to be lumpy???”

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Does this look lumpy to you?

Apparently not. But then, just as I was launching into my first nervous breakdown, I received the news that M-R was undertaking the bread-making herself to try and understand what on earth I was talking about. It turned out that these were not ‘lumps’. I’m still mystified as to what they were but I was assured all was well. Just put the lid on and leave it. Yes, ma’am.

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Put the lid on and walk away for 12 hours. Like I said, Advanced Planning required.

And it did look better in the morning.

Not lumpy, just holey.

Not lumpy, just holey.

But then, in the process of baking, confusion ensued.

“Is it 250 degrees Celsius?” This was not stipulated in the instructions but my question was treated with scorn. Of course it was Celsius – that’s what we use, right?

“Would it be quicker to put the pot in the oven as it’s heating up, do you think?” As opposed to putting it in the heated oven for 25 minutes. I was instructed to get that pot in the oven toot sweet. (I already had, on a hunch.) Of course it should be put in there while the oven heated up. Why would I ask such a question?

It was not my fault. There was a wayward comma in the instructions.

Kids, proper punctuation is important.

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Baking Stage 1 completed.

Now, it is worth pointing out that while all this was going on, I was still required to complete the usual tasks related to getting three children to school.

Yeah, I don’t know why I chose to undertake this on a school night/morning either.

Plus, it was the Eldest Son’s last day at school so let’s throw in a costume requirement and a need to be at school early for breakfast, shall we? Well, because I am basically insane.

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Baking Stage 2 completed.

Then the phone rang. As a casual relief teacher this is a sound that strikes both joy and annoyance in the heart. I was required at work.

So my poor freshly baked loaf spent the day cooling its heels on the kitchen bench, all alone, while the rest of us were busy with, you know, life and stuff.

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The finished product.

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Darling, that is not your best angle…

It survived. And forgave us by still being a delicious accompaniment to a hurriedly prepared dish of pumpkin soup. Hurriedly because [points to self] parent of children with after-school activities.

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The lumps disappeared and left behind all these holes.

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Let me assure you that this will not last long in this house.

Through it all, there was dear M-R on the end of a virtual line, giving me tips, reassuring my nerves and dispelling my doubts. And carrying on her own baking extravaganza in her own tiny kitchen at the same time. Go check out her post about the adventure. It’s undoubtedly funnier and tastier than mine!

And one last thing. Because I am really probably completely insane, I figured since I was undertaking this delayed-gratification baking exercise with the bread, I might as well try out my friend Barbara Pyett’s ginger nuts recipe while I was at it.

Which just meant another bowl of something I couldn’t do anything with in the morning. They had to wait until after dinner. They also survived.

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Biscuits made for redheaded boys. Ginger nuts.

And I survived. Perhaps not with my sanity intact but then I’m not sure it wasn’t a bit shredded to begin with.

 

 

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