Last week’s bake was my standard wholemeal loaf, which is actually 50% wholemeal and 50% strong white flour. I’ve been using the same basic recipe for ages, and recently started adding a good chunk of fennel seeds for the flavour and aroma they bring. I add 3–4% fennel seeds, usually after the autolyse. Very good with milder cheeses.
Oh dear. Here we are again on the brink of Fornacalia and, to my shame and despite this website’s name, I have not prepared anything special. I was going to do my 100% rye sourdough, with a nod to some Norse deities, but a microbe attacked my throat and nose on Friday so I didn’t really feel up to it.
Last week’s big bake was of Kalonji bread, which I’ve written about before.
These days, I tend to omit the olive oil of the second recipe above and to bump the hydration a bit to 70%. The resulting loaf, as seen above, rises well, has a reasonably tight crumb – good for toast – and tastes delicious.
This is a firm favourite and quite impossible to find anywhere in the city. I’ve been making it forever, based on the original in Hamelman’s Bread adapted for a natural leaven and seven rather than six seeds.
Two light rye loaves, which could probably have used a little longer proof.
Having recently managed to move this site to a new host, the least I could do is bring it back to a kind of life. I’ve been baking solidly all through its existence, but got out of the habit of posting because I really have nothing new to say. I bake bread. I share it. We eat it. That’ll do.
On the other hand, why not share my formulae here?
Around this time, as is customary, my little microbial helpers need a dash of tender loving care. The yoghurt has already had two quick passages and is much the better for it. The kefir is about to have its first. But with temperatures in the high 30s°C I wasn’t super keen to look after the bread starters. Of course I could have just refreshed them without actually baking, but where’s the fun in that, and in any case stocks of frozen bread were dwindling fast. So, yesterday I took a look at the stiffer starter.
It wasn’t good.
The top was dark and slimy, the driest parts powdery (with spores?) and a fair bit of liquid hooch. The smell wasn’t reassurring either. But I’m here to reassure you that all was well and that if you are ever faced with a neglected starter, there’s no need to abandon it.
Turning the lump over, the base was perfectly fine, so I dug out a small spoonful, trying not to break through to the other side. It weighed about 9 gm. I added 24 gm of water and 32 gm of wholewheat flour (preserving the 75% hydration) mixed it up and left it to get going.
One thing about the heat; it got going in a hurry. Three hours later it was light and well aerated. Time for a second build. A single loaf needs only 175 gm of starter, and there was no way I was going to bake two in this heat, so the feed was 75 gm of water and 100 gm of flour.
Again, three hours was about all it took to more than double in volume. After that, I made the bulk dough (50% Manitoba, 50% wholewheat, 2% salt, 70% hydration), gave it a quick knead and left it on the counter for an hour. One set of folds and into the fridge overnight.
This morning I took it out, nicely risen, gently shaped it, placed it in a banneton, and left it for about 90 minutes. Normally I preheat the oven and my Le Creuset casserole for 35 minutes before baking. Given the heat, no way. It has been a long time since I first tried baking from a cold start and only a couple of times since, but saving 35 minutes of oven blasting made it worth it. Lid removed after 30 minutes, baked for a further 20 minutes.
The result was very acceptable. Not as much oven spring perhaps, but plenty, and a nice, even crumb. If this weather keeps up, I will do the same sort of bake when I revive the looser starter.
