The Sourdough Chronicals - creating a barm

As a sidestep from my regular food bloggings, I will attempt to focus a more specific energy on my approach to baking bread here.

Baking bread is my true love, and as such, I feel deserves its own space; a location where I can chronicle my daily and weekly interactions with the yet to be named sourdough barm living in a beer pitcher on top of the refrigerator.

Day 1 - creating the seed culture

To begin, I used a variation of Peter Rienhart's seed culture schedule, improvising only where I wanted to feel creative. For the first night, I left out 1/2 cup whole wheat flour, 1/2 cup bread flour, 1 tablespoon cracked wheat and 1 tablespoon barley along with 3/4 cups water. There was little to no rise, nor any sour smell after this short amount of time. However, the result sure was pretty.



Day 2 ...patiently waiting...

Raising a barm is much like raising a child...or so I would imagine. It takes patience, food and probably love. Discarding all but 1/2 of the dough from day one is difficult, but a necessity if the it is going to be disciplined enough to manage on its own. Half goes in the garbage, the other half gets fed.



As you can see, there is quite a bit more rise this time around, although still not doubling by any means. The dough is a bit sticky, but still rather grainy. This second shot gives a closeup of the texture and the few small bubbles proves that the yeast are alive and hard at work.




Day 3

With the coming of the 2nd feeding, many yeasts in the imprisoned air turned hopefully, or desperately, towards the freedom of the hydrated flour. The new additional flour became the great embarkation point. But not everyone could get to the flour directly, and so, a torturous, roundabout refugee trail sprang up. Left corner to the middle, across the great pools of water, then by train, or auto, or foot across the rim of barley. Here the fortunate ones, through money, or influence, or luck might obtain exit visas and scurry to the untouched flour. But the others wait in the water or barley...and wait...and wait...and wait...

The yeast's journey to colonize the container of flour and water (and hopefully some bacteria), reminds me much of Casablanca. And in its honor, I will name the barm Captain Louis Renault, prefect of the police! The soon-to-be-barm and Renault have much in common, as both desire to establish a delicate balance between good and evil. Renault must be cautious to keep order in his area, designated Free France, and yet, must allow the Germans to maintain the illusion of control without any official power.

The same is the case for Captain Renault of the bread world. He must maintain a balance of acid levels, keeping the bacteria around for their delicious flavors, but mitigating their potency and keeping it eatable.

Anyway, long, silly metaphors aside, this is what Captain Renault looks like on day 3:



He's beginning to smell a bit more deliciously sour, though not yet incredibly potent. A bit more rise, but not yet an explosion of carbon dioxide. Half in the trash, the other half gets fed with 1 cup flour and 1/2 cup water.

Day 4 - judgment day

Four days of exposure to the good, crisp Maine air and oceanic bacteria has left Captain Renault smelling yeastily delicious. Not quite as crisp as a glass of Perrier Jouet, but some of the same characteristics exist, albeit in different proportions. The tangy smell is not quite overpowering. In fact, it is rather inviting. The texture is velvety and smooth, stringy and sticky. In order to scoop out half, it becomes necessary to wet the spoon considerably.



Today's instructions are to discard essentially all but 7 ounces worth. I remove the remaining 12 or so ounces and set them aside for an attempt at potato rosemary bread. But as for Captain Renault, he is looking a bit light and needs a big feeding. Today he gets 14 ounces of bread flour and 14 ounces of water (I used potato water, cooled to room temp). He now gets mixed for a few minutes until he is thoroughly hydrated and set aside for about 6 hours. He will be permitted to play until around 8:30 tonight at which point he will go for a long, long sleep. Tomorrow he will hopefully give birth to another loaf of bread.