I baked another rye sourdough bread today. 300 g bread flour to 200 g rye, 12 g of salt and 200 g of active starter. It came out great, apart from the slashing I tried, which caused the crust to break in unexpected places.

Still, the flavour is there and I am finally beginning to be able to handle sticky rye dough without getting it stuck to myself and/or the entire mixer. I’ve made this bread now twice, sometimes three times a week, for some time. Every time I make it again I learn something new, but I am now pretty confident that the end result will be delicious.

There are other breads waiting for me, other recipes I am planning to explore. But they can continue to wait, for now. Part of this has to do with my wife declaring the rye her most favourite bread ever, but part has also to do with the journey of exploration. In baking, it matters whether you use 12 or 15 grams of salt. 10 ml of water make a difference to the feel and finish of a dough, something that rarely happens in cooking.

Which makes experimentation all that more interesting. Experimentation that changes things incrementally, maybe substituting whole grain for white bread flour, maybe exchanging rye for Fife. The results are always delicious, and always interesting. The aim is to, one day, find a formula that can’t be improved, that is the essence of a dark, delicious, sourdough rye.

I am looking forward to the journey.

“Where do you find the time?”

Now, both Mr. Duess and Mr. Stephenson are far from being retired, years away from sitting quietly on their front porch, pipe in hand and feet beslipperd. Yet they like few things better than a slice of freshly baked rye bread, dipped into a humble dish of peppery olive oil. And to achieve that goal, midweek baking is frequently a necessity. Here’s how to do it:

Day One:

In the evening, take your sourdough starter out of the fridge and feed.

Day Two:

The next morning, prepare your dough. Today we used 180g rye and 320g wheat flower, with about a cup full of very active starter. Salt, water; about 300ml for a (roughly) 60% hydration of the dough. Add everything to your mixer and knead while you’re taking a shower. Take the resulting dough ball and put into an oiled bowl, cover and refrigerate. Go to work.

In the evening, remove dough from the fridge and allow to come to room temperature. Fold and stretch three times, then let rise in a banneton for two hours. After the first hour, pre-heat the oven to 500º. Bake for 45 minutes or until the bread has an internal temperature of 200º. This is the result:

The loaf had hardly risen in the fridge, and even after three hours at room temperature little had changed. The rise happened almost exclusively in the oven – the so called oven spring, where the yeast goes on one last manic feeding frenzy before being killed off at just over 140º.

You’ll need:

• 350g unbleached bread flour
• 150g rye flour
• 15g kosher salt, ideally 10g smoked, 5g plain
• About two tablespoon full of highly active sourdough starter
• About 250ml water

If you don’t have access to sourdough starter instant yeast can be used. If you use yeast, mix 200 g bread flour with 200 ml water (this is called a 100% hydration sponge) and let it sit in the fridge overnight. The flavour of the bread will improve immeasurably. Add the yeast to the remaining flour and proceed.

Sourdough starter.

Mix all your ingredients together and knead, either in a mixer or by hand. I use a Kitchen Aid stand mixer and knead on speed 2 for about five to ten minutes or until a shiny dough develops that clears the walls of the mixing bowl. You might add a little water if the mix is too dry.

Put the ball of dough into an oiled bowl and let it rest for three to five hours. If you want, you can even let it rise very slowly overnight in the fridge. The longer you’ll give the bread to rise, the lower the temperature needs to be. Accepted wisdom has it that bread should rise in a warm spot, and while that does get the yeast activated it also keeps it lazy, feeding on the simple sugars present in the mix. The longer you’ll leave it to rise, the harder the yeast has to work, breaking down the actual wheat and creating deliciousness in the process.

Once risen, take dough out of the bowl and put it on  a floured surface. Stretch it gently, then fold it over onto itself. Turn and repeat about six times. I proof my bread in a heavily floured banneton, or Brotform, a little basked made from reeds. It helps to create a lovely pattern on the bread and shapes it as it rises.

Preheat your oven to 500º. I use a cloche, a cover made from earthenware, to bake bread. It simulates the environment in a steam injected bakery oven and makes for a lovely crust. I highly recommend buying one of these, they changed the way I bake for the better. If you don’t have access to a cloche, you might want to use an unglazed flower pot, on top of a pizza stone with the drainage hole plugged by aluminum foil. Be careful that the pot doesn’t contain any nasty glazes not intended for human consumption.

After a second rise of 60 minutes, bake for about 10 minutes at full temperature, then reduce to 450º and bake until done, about 30-40 minutes. Check the core temperature, if it reads about 200º the bread is done. Enjoy.