B R E A D. I love you. I could eat you, romantically of course, every day, at every meal and loaves at a time. It doesn't matter if you're white, wheat or country. I will love you just the same and you'll never have to worry about me cheating on you with Mr. Cookie. As long as we can shake things up and throw goat cheese into the mix every once and a while, our love will be eternal.
I rarely do this, if I ever have, but I won't be including a recipe in this post. Not that I don't have it, but that I don't think I will be doing it justice by posting it on my blog. For Christmas last year, "A" received a copy of the Tartine Bread book from an old college friend. If you haven't heard of Tartine, I will assume you haven't been to San Francisco or don't have the obsession with bread that I do. To prepare myself for the Tartine method, I had been building up my starter and learning how to make bread all over again.
I'm an experienced bread baker and I had to practice the Tartine method. That should be your first clue why the recipe won't be on the blog. The first few loaves were delicious and turned out fine, but the process to get there left me crying, yelling and pulling my hair out. It was hard and why was the dough SO STICKY!? Then one day it clicked. I remembered all the ratios and knew what the dough should feel like between my fingers. During the long bulk fermentation phase, the billowing air bubbles brewing in the bread is now a welcome comfort. I get it and it gets me.
So I urge you, if you have any desire to make sourdough bread, please, pick up Chad Robertson's book . It's a work of art with pages upon pages of science and instruction. If that doesn't suit you, he has the most wonderful step-by-step photography that a frustrated baker could ask for. If more proof is needed, look at this bread. I did not a minute of kneading and the dough was able to rise in the fridge overnight as to produce a fresh loaf right before a dinner party.