When Bread Goes Wrong

My goal last week was to do a new blog entry every Tuesday. So here I am on Wednesday making an entry ... please see last post explaining my total lack of understanding how time works.

I have had it in my head for months that I was going to make a sourdough starter. My first attempt was in September, and it was a spectacular failure. I failed to cover the jar properly one night, and when I went to feed it the next morning I found millions of bugs in it. It was probably only a few bugs, but bugs are bugs, and throwing it out was my only option.  I don't take defeat very well, so I was in no hurry to try it again.

But try again I did, and after one week I now have two jars of starter sitting in my kitchen. However, I'm not sure either of them are really what they are supposed to be.  Three days ago I had enough starter to attempt my first loaf of bread. I selected a recipe that sounded doable, I watched hours of YouTube videos on how to do it, I read and reread the recipe, and I prayed.

I put the starter in the mixing bowl first, only to discover that I indeed did not have two cups of starter called for in the recipe. No problem, I thought, just half the recipe and make one loaf instead of two.  So I put my half measure of flour and water, mixed it, and left it to rest in the refrigerator overnight. I then fed the starter that I had left and went to bed.

Then next morning is where things went really wrong. I checked on my starter, realized that I had another cup of it now, and thought "Hey, why not just add it to the dough I've already started, and make the recipe the way it was supposed to be made?"

So I did. It is important to point out that even after letting the first dough sit for 12 hours, it had not risen in the slightest (a point that  should have told me a million things).  So off I went messing about with my new "experiment" with bread and tried to back track and correct as I went along.  I left the dough to rise again, then kneaded it until I got to what I perceived as the "window pane" stage, where I thought the gluten had developed and I had a soft elastic dough. Then left it to rise for about 30 minutes, when I suddenly realized I had left salt out of the whole thing. So I worked the salt back in, and left it to rise for three hours. When I checked it again, I couldn't really tell it had risen in the slightest, so I went ahead and divided the dough, shaped it, and left it to rise again. Still no change after three more hours. So I decided to let it rise overnight, justifying this by saying to myself "natural yeast must need more time to rise."

So yesterday morning, I removed the loaves from the refrigerator, allowed them to come to room temperature, still couldn't detect much of a rise out of them, then decided to create a cottage loaf with the two dough. Placed them in a dutch oven (because I had watched countless videos on baking bread in a dutch oven), and baked them per the recipe time and temperature.

When the timer went off, I removed the bread from the oven, opened the lid, and gasped. Inside was the ugliest glob of horribly-gone-wrong bread you've ever seen.  It smelled good, but was completely inedible.

Baking bread is not for the faint of heart, and it definitely is not for amateurs who feel the need play around with things they do not understand. I should have tested the starter to see if it was ready. I should not have attempted the whole thing until that was done. I should have noticed it wasn't rising. I should have included all the proper ingredients in the first go around. I should have realized that all these "corrections" I was making was just causing an already troubled dough to be overworked. I should have been smart enough to figure out that if a dough hasn't risen in two days, it is probably not going to rise. I should have followed the instructions every step of the way instead of assuming that I was creating something. And finally, I should not have even attempted to bake the blasted thing.

So there you have it. All the things you should not do to make a loaf of fresh bread using a naturally cultivated starter.

Now, if you will excuse me, I have to check on my starters and plan for my next attempt ... or have some ice-cream.

I'll decide when I get to the kitchen.