I think the New Year really started today for me: the last of Mum’s Ambrosial Xmas Pudding™ has been eaten, a hundred metres of fairy lights carefully detangled and stashed away and there’s a definite thickening around our middles that can only mean it’s time for a January health and fitness bid. Or at least a passing attempt not to eat whipped cream by the ladleful at lunchtime. Not looking at anyone in particular, Mr. R&R.
I was attempting to jump on the wholegrain-is-healthier bandwagon when choosing this recipe – all those superfood seeds, wholemeal flour, natural yeast…right? How can that be bad for you? Well, I have failed miserably, I tell you. As every seasoned dieter knows, portion control is key… and I actually can’t wait for tomorrow morning to slather a thick slice with butter and marmalade. And to dip it into my lunchtime soup. And have a quick afternoon snack with marmite… It is, and I know I say it myself and shouldn’t, ridiculously tasty. I’m contemplating taking a loaf to bed with me, just to be sure it’ll still be there tomorrow.
The key, I think, is the overnight “soaker” of oats and seeds soaked (the clue’s in the name, durrr) in cold water which is then mixed into the final dough. The bread has the creamy crumb of a naturally leavened loaf, enhanced by those oats which make it even creamier, a slight but non-intrusive crunch from the seeds, a lovely crackly/chewy crust and an overwhelming taste of goodness. Of course that goodness is slightly countered if you dip it directly into a jar of Bonne Maman, but that’s not the bread’s fault, is it? Enjoy. At your peril.
N.B. I’m not being totally fulsome here on the bread baking details, as I’m kinda assuming that if you have a natural yeast starter on the go, you kinda know what you’re doing with this levain/sourdough thang. If not, don’t panic – it is far easier and less scary than all the jargon or self-proclaimed breadheads out there would have it. After all, it’s only flour and water, although when you see the prodigious amount of bubbles and perfume that natural yeasts produce, that can be quite scary! (I’ve nicknamed my starter “La Bestia” – the Beast – as it needs feeding nearly as much as I do.) There are lots of places on the web, or on Amazon, that explain far, far better than I could, but my hearty recommendation is the short, ultra-friendly-without-dumbing-down and practical The River Cottage Bread Handbook, which got me and several friends started.
Seedy oaty sourdough
Adapted from Bread: A Baker’s Book of Techniques and Recipes by Jeffrey Hamelman (the Five Grain Levain). Makes 2 loaves.
Overnight sponge
- 45g mature starter (about 100% hydration, i.e. 1 part flour to 1 part water, and see note above)
- 225g white bread flour
- 285g water
Cold soaker
- 70g oats
- 235g seeds (I used hemp, linseed and sunflower)
- 370g water
- 6g salt
Final dough
- The sponge
- The cold soaker
- 225g wholemeal flour
- 455g white bread flour
- 17g salt
- 3g instant yeast, a scant tsp (the sort that doesn’t need dissolving first)
- 113g water
The night before, combine the ingredients for the sponge and the soaker in two separate bowls, cover both and leave for 12-16 hours at room temperature.
The next morning, make the final dough by adding the soaker to the sponge and the rest of the final dough ingredients. Bear in mind the amount of water you need depends on all sorts of variables so add more if it looks a bit dry, but go slowly to avoid adding more flour. Not that it seemed to affect my result. Knead for 10 minutes or so to end up with a cohesive dough. Form into a round, flour and put into a clean bowl to rise. Cover loosely with a bin liner.
After 45 minutes reach into the bowl, underneath the dough and fold it over itself from one side and then the opposite, a third each as you would to fold a sheet of paper to put in an envelope. Then give it a quarter turn and repeat. Cover and leave to rise for another 45 minutes.
When it has at least doubled in size, tip it out onto a worksurface, divide into two equalish pieces and form each into a round. Put these seam side up into two smaller floured bowls, bannetons or proving baskets for the final proving, about another 45 minutes, again covered by a bin liner.
Meanwhile, prepare the oven for baking by preheating to 240˚C with a baking stone or tray in there. When the loaves and oven are ready, create some steam by misting water from a spray bottle. Put the loaves on the stone and slash the tops with a serrated knife. Bake the loaves for 45 minutes, reducing the temperature to 210˚C after the first 10 minutes. Cool thoroughly on wire racks and tell the jam to prepare itself for the worst.
2 Comments on "Seedy oaty sourdough for a very Happy New Year"
One thing I picked up recently, I think from Dan Lepard’s blog, is that you can freeze sourdough starter in portions, so that you don’t have to battle with the inconvenience of maintaining La Bestia at the back of the fridge, like some sort of dormant mythical monster (the kids are actually scared of my sourdough starters…”but Dad, it’s ALIVE and it’s in the FRIDGE” etc, etc).
If I remember correctly, you freeze smallish batches of sourdough starter, and then magically restore them to health through the addition of warm water, more flour and a couple of days tender loving care. It just means that if you only make sourdough every one in a while, you’ll still have a decent starter to work with.
I’ll second the recommendation for the River Cottage Bread Book – it’s absolutely superb, and a great introduction to breadmaking. Demystifies a lot of things and gives simple and clear instructions. Well worth the money.
Yes you’re absolutely right – I did a day course with the man himself and he explained the technique exactly as you describe. Just don’t mistake the white levain portions for frozen meringues!