The secret of success with sourdough bread lies with the 'starter', writes Hugo Arnold
The beginning was easy. Combine all the ingredients, mix well and transfer them to a jar. Leave in a warm place and feed over the following days. I was embarking on making my first loaf of sourdough bread, a method that uses the natural yeasts present in flour to make the final result rise. This is in place of the more normal method, where you add yeast to flour, or, in the case of soda bread, use baking soda as the raising agent.
Day two was a little more troubling. What had been a rather bright, off-white mixture was now decidedly grey, dull and limp. Still, I followed the instructions and added more flour. Later, with the mixture back in a warm place (my airing cupboard), I couldn't resist the odd peek. But to no avail - nothing seemed to be happening at all. Day three was even more disturbing. What had been grey was now even more so, and separated. I wasn't holding out much hope, but flour doesn't cost much, I reasoned, so in went some more.
Day four brought results. What had been a grim scene of wet, dull, grey flour was transformed into a bubbling mass of activity. Now there was a sweet smell, almost like bread, but almost like biscuits, too. I smelt honey and roses.
What I had managed to create was a "starter" which, if I looked after it, could go on for tens, if not hundreds, of years. Every time you bake a loaf a little of the starter gets used, but you feed the remainder, and so it goes on. Some people talk to their starters, but that might be going a little too far. You might find yourself smiling at it, however. A new member of the family.
Sourdough bread has a pleasant sourness to it, another dimension to the aroma and smell. It makes the best toast in the world; real toast with a crunch factor, but also with a flavour and texture that is hugely satisfying. Add good butter and jam and you have a feast. It works very well for bruschetta, and cheese on sourdough toast is heavenly.
More than a few cookery books tell you making bread is easy - it isn't. There is something unnerving about all that flour. It takes years to perfect a method and few accomplished domestic bakers I know are never really satisfied. There always seems to be more work to do.
On the satisfaction stakes, however, a loaf of bread scores highly. As it bakes, the house fills with the most amazing smell. Homely, rich, comforting, enticing, old-fashioned, real, valuable - food as it should be.