Along with thousands of Australians, I too have been bitten by the sourdough bug. There’s a romance to making sourdough, I suppose, and the complexity of the process is like learning a new language. But what is sourdough and why do so many of us find the making of it so therapeutic?

History of sourdough

The unleavened sourdough might be one of the oldest forms of bread, being traced back to ancient Egypt. All sourdough loaves begin with a starter – comprising flour, water and a little bit of sugar – that most likely came about by accident when a mixture was left out in the open and wild yeast spores from the air were incorporated into the mixture. The bread made from this adulterated mix had a lighter texture and had the characteristic ‘sour’ taste. Until the rise of commercially available yeast, all bread was, essentially, sourdough flat bread.

Sourdough or unleavened bread has been part of Jewish tradition and faith since the time of the exodus from Egypt. From Egypt, the bread culture spread to Greece, then to the Romans until it made its way to France. In the early 1900s, French laws that restricted long hours and overnight work led to faster-rising bread that was less labour-intensive and the baguette was born. In much of the developed world, bread-making leant towards the use of commercial yeast, with faster production time and less time to market.

In the1980s, sourdough again became popular, possibly after foodies became aware of the magic of San Francisco sourdough.

Sourdough in San Francisco, the ‘sourdough world capital’

In the California gold rush of the mid 1800s, miners in remote areas carried a sourdough starter so they could make bread easily without having to find a town or yeast. The older the starter, the better the tanginess and texture of the bread. Later, miners who travelled to Alaska and Canada carried a sourdough starter with them.

Possibly the first commercial application for sourdough starters came with the establishment of the Boudin Bakery, set up by French immigrants. By the 1980s, San Francisco Sourdough was not only a bread but a tourist attraction with many different bakeries vying for the top spot not only for the bread but also for elaborate packaging.

Sourdough joys

As I mentioned earlier, probably what drew me to the idea of making my own sourdough was the relative complexity of the starter, how the flavour of the bread deepens the longer you keep a starter mix in good condition, and of course, the deliciousness of the resulting loaf. Making sourdough is unlike making the usual bread. There’s a wonderful unpredictability, with disappointment and joy throughout.

After watching countless YouTube videos I enrolled in a class to learn the finer points of sourdough making. If it weren’t for the view of Sydney Harbour Bridge from the tiny apartment we could have been in Paris, plus our teacher was a French baker’s daughter, so it all added to the romance of learning to bake sourdough.

I’ve discovered that humidity, temperature and time of day can have an impact on how well your starter rises. The better the quality of your flour, the tastier the sourdough. I use an organic flour milled in Gunnedah that I purchase from Drifter, one of our local Gloucester stores. Then there’s the challenge of folding the dough half hourly for several hours ‒ not stretching, not kneading, just folding. That’s the strangely therapeutic part. The excitement comes once you slice through that bread and see those wonderful holes and taste that light sour taste. Did you know, the longer you leave your dough in the fridge the more sour the taste?

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