Monday 11 September 2017

Pain au levain (sourdough)

It's the secret Hovis don't want you to know about!  Yes, you too, can bake your own bread at home for a fraction of the cost of a sliced loaf!  

(updated September 2017 on the birth of my hundredth loaf!) 

Loaf number 100, this morning
Baking never really was a really strong point of mine, but it gives you a lovely warm feeling inside, and thanks to the amount I've been reading up about sourdough, I can now bake a loaf with much less effort than ever before.  This morning loaf number 100 came out of the oven, and whilst they haven't all been perfect, this one came pretty damn close.

I'll warn you now that if you want to try this, it requires time and patience, especially in the early stages.  But it’s true: the best things really do come to those who wait.  You will come to love every loaf you make with all your heart, because you'll get a different result every time; just like dogs, homebaked bread comes in all kinds of unexpected shapes and sizes with a whole range of characters and personalities.

This loaf yields a deliciously crunchy crust and beautiful, chewy dough which tastes slightly vinegary.  You won't be able to resist eating it, especially while it's still warm, with a bit of butter.  But best of all, you can put that breadmaker back in its box on top of the cupboard where it has languished since Christmas 2003, because you don't need one – all you need is a mixing bowl, a casserole dish and a Kilner jar.

Ingredients:
  • Strong bread flour (I suggest you use wholemeal the first time, and when the bag's gone you can alternate with white flour. Organic flour is nice, but not essential - I would however suggest using a flour that doesn't have improvers added)
  • Warm water
  • Fine polenta (optional, and you won't need this until baking day)
  • Lots of love
  • Lots of patience

It's aliiiiiiive! Sourdough starter at 14 days old
Before you bake your first sourdough loaf, you'll need some sourdough starter – basically, in layman’s terms, the yeast needed to make your bread rise.  But don't worry about buying any yeast, because everything you need is right here, in the air you're breathing now.  Making your own yeast will cost you just two minutes a day for the next five days.

Start with a clean and sterile Kilner jar.  Other airtight jars are available.

Measure out equal weights (for a jar of this size, 75g of each) of flour and warm water. Add to the jar and mix well; seal the jar and leave it in a warm place where you will now need to forget about it for 24 hours.  While you’re busy forgetting about it, I’d recommend reading up about what’s really happening in that jar. And whatever you do, don't open it.

The next day, measure out the same quantity again of warm water and flour, but this time use a clean cup to mix them before adding it to yesterday's mixture.  Stir and put it back in a warm place for another 24 hours.  I'll refer to this process from now on as 'feeding' your sourdough starter; after all it is a living, breathing organism.  You may even want to give it a name. Mine is called Aggie.

Feed the sourdough starter again on days 3 and 4.  Every now and then, the flour and water will separate as in the picture above, leaving you with a brackish liquor floating on top which should smell slightly beery.  If this is the case, then you're well on track - just give the mixture a feed, stir to bring it together and close the lid again.  If it smells really horrid, then maybe something has gone wrong - perhaps the jar wasn't sterile at the start - in which case, throw it away and start again.

By day five, maybe day six, the mixture should have started to bubble (picture below) and a small amount of pressurised air will escape from the jar whenever you open it. Sometimes it's good to let the pressurised air escape - you don't want any exploding jars!  If you've reached the top of the jar or the mixture is bubbling out, discard half the mixture and continue feeding as above until you're ready to bake.

Now, bearing in mind that you will need to feed your sourdough starter the day before you bake with it, stop feeding the mixture before the starter reaches the top of the jar.  If you're not ready to bake yet, you can place the jar in your fridge, where it can safely hibernate until you're ready to bake. 

Your starter will "tell" you when it's time to bake
The day before you're ready to bake
Remove the starter from the fridge in the morning.  Give it a feed, close the lid and allow it to return to room temperature, whereupon it will start bubbling again.

The night before you're ready to bake
Now it starts getting interesting!  Just before you go to bed, mix together in a clean bowl 375g of strong flour with 250g of the sourdough starter. Add a good pinch or two of salt and about half a cup of warm water. Mix well with your hands until there is no dry flour left - you may need to add more warm water or flour, but remember the golden rule - you can always add liquid but you can't take it out.

Now tip the contents of the bowl out onto a clean work surface. Drizzle the dough and work surface with olive oil (to stop the dough sticking) and knead the dough for five to ten minutes before covering it with a clean, slightly damp tea towel, and leave it in an oiled mixing bowl, in a warm place, to prove overnight.

At this point you can roll the dough in sesame seeds, poppy seeds, onion seeds, linseed or sunflower seeds if you want to add extra flavour and texture.  Even if you don't add seeds, sprinkle a small quantity of fine polenta over the dough and ensure it's coated evenly; this will prevent it from sticking.  

Make sure you leave a little bit of the old sourdough starter in your jar, and feed it in preparation to make your next batch by following the same instructions as before.  Thereafter you can feed the starter every couple of days, leaving it in the fridge if you're going away for the weekend.

A freshly mixed loaf, topped with seeds and ready to prove.

Baking day
When you awake the next morning, the dough will have roughly doubled in size. 

You will need a clean lidded casserole dish to bake the bread in.  Set your oven as hot as it will go, and place the empty casserole dish and lid inside.  You’re trying to create, effectively, an oven within an oven, so leave it to get hot.  Remove it carefully after 15 minutes or so, place a dusting of polenta (or flour) at the bottom of the dish and turn the ball of dough onto it, taking care not to let any touch the sides.  Replace the lid and bake on maximum heat for twenty minutes.

After twenty minutes remove the lid and take a peek.  If it looks good (it won't be completely cooked yet) then return it to the oven for maybe another ten or fifteen minutes, allowing the crust to develop.  Don't leave the oven open for too long in-between peeks.
When you feel the bread is ready, remove the casserole dish from the oven and turn the loaf out onto a wire rack to cool.  Eat while still slightly warm, and bask for a while in a kind of warm, organic happiness which is largely missing from modern life.

Addendum
September 2017: It is now a full seven months since I bought any bread.  My costs are down to about 40p a loaf.  Toasted sourdough bread with a fried egg on top is, truly, the breakfast of champions.

The first few loaves looked ugly and sliced unevenly but tasted delicious.  Practice, however, makes perfect, and I can now mix and knead a loaf faster than it would take me to walk to the shops and buy one.  The starter will improve with time, and although the proving time varies according to ambient temperature, the loaves all rise uniformly well.  Sometimes I make extra dough and use it to make pizza dough or a few bread rolls. The bread freezes well, and any leftover bits are great cubed and fried in olive oil and served in a salad with tomatoes, basil and mozzarella.

The moral of this story: if at first you don't succeed, try, try and try again. Fortune favours the brave. Learn to love your mistakes and learn from them. Your first loaf won't be perfect, but persevere with it and you'll never go hungry again.