No. 6: Flour, again

I have been baking bread for a year and a half, and this week I finally stopped setting a timer.

This week

The starter lives in a jar on the counter. It has opinions about the weather and no opinion at all about my diary. On Thursday it was lively and sour; on Friday it had sulked. I fed it the same flour and water as always and it came back by the evening, as if nothing had happened.

I suspect this is the real lesson of sourdough: a thing that is alive does not keep your schedule, and the sooner you accept it the better the bread.

The finger test

Press a floured fingertip about a centimetre into the side of the dough. If the dent springs back at once, the dough needs longer. If it stays dented and sags, it has gone over. If it comes back slowly and not quite fully, bake it. I learned this at thirty-nine and I am a little cross that nobody mentioned it earlier.

One thing to try

Bake a loaf and write down nothing. No times, no temperatures, no weights. Look at the dough, smell it, poke it. Then eat the loaf and decide whether you want to do it again. The essay on this, “Bread Without a Timer”, goes up on Monday for anyone who wants the longer version.

A reader asks

Tariq wrote asking whether he needs a heavy pot with a lid. He does not strictly need one. A baking tray with a second tray turned over the top will do, and so will an old roasting tin. The point is to keep the steam in for the first half of the bake, and many things will do that.

A small thing. The crust on the left of this week’s loaf is darker than the right, because my oven has a hot corner. I have named the corner. It is called Gary.

N.