I haven’t tried all the breads of the world, but it’s safe to say that the French know their way around a good Pain Au Levain, the Sourdough bread. What makes it so special? In this post, you will learn about how my journey with sourdough bread started, and about my first attempts to baking sourdough bread myself.
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My history with sourdough bread
When I went to culinary school in Paris, I encountered baking and pastry making for the first time. It was new and exciting for me. I haven’t had any experience with baking before. We learned about different doughs, but bread-making has its own field, separated from all other baking and pastries, Boulangerie.
Brioche dough, so rich and sticky!
Eating bread in France.
Bread is an essential part of a French meal. It is always available on the table to support the meal until dessert is served. It’s the way to enjoy the rest of the sauce off the plate, to clean the taste buds going to the next course, and to balance the meal as a side dish.
When I was living in France, I found myself eating great tasting bread everywhere I ate. It is often just a simple, fresh Baguette with lunch or Pain Complet (whole wheat bread) with some cheese and wine, Brioche with pâté, and Baguette Tradition with fresh oysters. A visit to a restaurant isn’t complete without their excellent bread (I mean, the meal was good, but the bread… was heavenly!) I’ve even tried the weird yet the genius concept of baguette dipped in chocolate mousse for dessert.
France had the best bread I have ever tasted in my life; it was everywhere and all the time, limitless and always fresh. Crispy outside, soft and fluffy inside. And that deeply moved me. It wasn’t the sweet Brioche that brought tears to my eyes, but rather the Pain au Levain (the Sourdough Bread in English) that was life-changing.
Should we bake our own sourdough bread?
I learned to appreciate the importance of good quality bread in my life. But it’s one thing to understand that, and a completely other thing being able to make something of that quality.
We did have a boulangerie class in school. It was a one day class in which I was overwhelmed with information about hydration percentage, temperatures, starters, feeding times, flours and grains, steam ovens… It was very confusing. I learned that sourdough is a living thing. Bread making is an art-form, and getting into this realm requires jumping into the deep ends. I was not ready for that yet.
While living in Paris, it made no sense to try and bake your own bread. You can practically buy the most amazing fresh bread every-day on every corner of a street for less than 1.30 euros. I let the pros do their thing, and I focused on cooking.
But that changed when I came back from Paris…
A Growing Need For A Better Bread
When I came back home to Israel, I discovered how much I missed the French bread and how non-existent it was in our daily life. The “normal bread” that was available was nothing like what I remembered from Paris. I bought a few artisanal bread loaves to accompany dinners I cooked, but I was curious about baking my own bread to go with my cooking after a while.
The journey of starting to bake your own bread
I started my journey of baking my own bread by trying out all kinds of yeast bread and country bread, which are simple and quick to make in a day. I made all kinds of different loaves, some with nuts and grains, whole wheat or country-style, and it turned out ok. Well, it’s freshly baked carbs; how bad can it be? But it was nothing like the French Pain au Levain (Sourdough bread) that I remembered. A few months later, I started reading about growing my own starter for sourdough.
First attempts in making sourdough bread
The first attempt wasn’t so successful. I followed the directions I found online to make the starter. I fed it every morning and finally used it for bread, but it came up dense and heavy. My starter wasn’t good, and I had to start over.
The second attempt was much better; I cared and nourished my starter and switched from a “wet” to a “dry” starter.
I began serving my own bread with my dinners, which was a big step forward. The bread came out good, not great, but it was homemade and fresh sourdough bread.
The bread got better with each attempt, and both the starter and I got used to the feeding routine.
Even though it got better, it wasn’t the heavenly buttered slice I remembered from Paris.
The next post will talk about how we moved to San Francisco together with my starter and 4 ways I improved my sourdough bread since.