As I mentioned in last week’s breadblog, I’m really not a huge fan of sourdough beyond pancakes. Since I’m exploring bread baking I feel I should make some sourdough simply to understand the process, also all this wintry weather has be missing waking up to sour dough pancakes cooked on the wood stove in old Wyoming.
Also can we really call our home, home if we havn’t take the step of starting a sourdough sponge? I mean what better way to establish ones connection to a place than to mix some local honey, grain, and wild yeast into a bread and consume it as a family. Perhaps share some of your starter with neighbors and hope for a reciprocal offer. Bind families and neighbors together, following a pattern as a old as civilization. Yeast after all made it possible to store grain and make flour into bread. This cycle is what led us to settle in the valleys of Mesopotamia, grow crops and set us on the course to suburbia.
With these thoughts in my head, I resolved to make a simple sourdough rye today. After getting my starter going a few days ago I’ve been nursing it with flour and watching it build some impressive bubbling action. I chose a flour only starter, reasoning that this would make a less tangy starter which would probably be better for my unsophisticated pallet.
The results were less than spectacular. The dough stuck to the pan, and did not rise as well as I would have liked. The whole thing fell apart coming out of the pan. On the plus side I devoured most of the evidence, as it was still fairly yummy.
So I’ll have to try this recipe again and refine it. On the positive side it did fluff up pretty well in the oven, the combination of steam and whatever air pockets were in there seemed to do the trick. I’m going to let the last rise in the bread pan go a bit longer. Hopefully as my starter gets more established it will get a bit better. I might also toss in a bit of gluten flour, since I think that will help it fluff up.


