I Did It! Sourdough Bread

I've always admired good bread. When I was in Norway, my next door neighbor (from Denmark) had this amazing rye bread that took two days to make. It was so dense and delicious, it was a meal in every slice. I learned how to bake plain wheat bread when I was there, and was quite satisfied with the small, almost-unrisen loaves I would produce. They didn't have a lot of flavor, but American bread generally doesn't, so I didn't feel that I was missing out on too much. Plus, I was baking! This was incredible!

When we bought this house, we had a great housewarming/engagement party. Many, many folks from various spheres of our lives came to celebrate with us, and a neighbor and coworker of mine was one of them. He gave us a sourdough starter that was from an old Homer family. I think the starter originated something like 80 years prior! I thought it was a fantastic gift and promptly stuck it in the fridge, forgot about it, and tossed it two months later when I discovered the layer of blue mold on the surface (come to find out, I could have scraped the mold off and fed the starter and it would have been fine). I've long regretted my neglect of that starter, and been too embarrassed of my neglect to 'fess up and ask for more.

So, I was saved when another friend offered me some of his homemade sourdough starter. I think he even did the "float-a-piece-of-toast" method to collect wild yeast. In any case, it was "new" starter, and I gladly accepted it. I diligently fed it every week, even if we never made anything from it. When we did cook with it, it was pancakes and waffles. We even toted it to Prince William Sound last summer for a sourdough pancake cook-off on the last morning of our week trip, along with another cohort's starter. His were sour. Mine were delicious. His had dried blueberries. We gorged ourselves that last, rainy morning, and I was so proud that I had sourdough starter that I cared enough for to bring it on this trip.

So, I know I'm obsessing about the starter. Something about the care and the history of it really appeals to me. It's like being gourmet without seriously trying, and I do love that.

Anyhow, it's not as though I've stopped buying bread from the store while I've had this starter. In fact, I haven't made sourdough bread once in my life. In college, when I returned from Norway, I tried to recreate my whole-wheat bread baking process using the toaster oven in my dorm room, and you might imagine the not-so-exciting results. I've been thinking about sourdough bread lately, though, and even had a fantasy that I would make tiny loaves to give to friends for Christmas with some homemade spread or something. Never happened. I got as far as reading the FOURTEEN PAGES of bread baking instructions in the Joy of Cooking and became completely overwhelmed. Just the basic sourdough bread recipe needed 36 hours! Plus, how does a novice bread baker know how flexible one can be with timing, rising temperatures, and the lot? What if I had to go to work, and so couldn't let the dough rise for 2 to 4 hours, but instead had to leave it for 6? Or eight? Would all be lost?

The other day I decided to go for it. I had made a triple batch of starter and suddenly had more starter begging to be used than I knew what to do with. Short of making enough pancakes to feed my office, I knew my option was to try bread. The 36 hour recipe called for two cups of starter, and I had three and one-half. So, one cup went back in the fridge:

(This is the stone crock I keep the starter in. The starter instructions are adamant about not putting the starter in contact with metal.)

I used two cups of starter and set out to follow the instructions for Joy of Cooking's White Sourdough Bread (which, by the way, references not only two instructional sections of the "bread" chapter, but also two different recipies). I decided that perhaps I wouldn't end up with the most incredible bread on earth because I didn't have the timing to follow the instructions to the letter, but it would be pretty close - and as long as pretty close was synonymous with edible, I'd be satisfied.

After an internet search to try and discern the difference between bread flour and all purpose flour, I embarked on this adventure. That was night before last. And tonight, the result:

Check out that crust! Check out that lovely doneness! The two pieces were two loaves that merged into one, much like a delicious dinner roll. And WOW does it taste good! It actually had a real crust! The inside is spongy and dense but full of air - and, best of all, it actually tastes like sourdough. I think we're on to something here, folks!

Two last things:
1. Is there really anything better than warm bread with butter?
2. Bread flour apparently has more gluten, and so results in a better rise and crust. Everything I read and have now experienced indicates you can use all-purpose flour instead of bread flour, but not the other way around.