Denver Sluggish
Denver Adagio
Denver Andante
Denver Tardo
Denver Dilatory
Denver Ho-Hum
Denver Desultory
Denver Tardigrade
Denver Lentissimo
Denver Dawdle
Denver Laggard
Denver Tortoise
Denver Snail
Denver Ponderous
Denver Proreption
Denver Spanopnoea
Denver Lentamente
Denver Turtle Foot
Denver Largo
Denver Downshift
Denver Longanimous
Denver Torpor
Denver Languid
Denver Stupor
Denver Mind Numb
Denver Galacial Age
Denver Languid
You get the idea, it's s---l---o---w. Slow enough for you to run errands in between proofs ... if those errands are in another state. Slow enough to take a trip ... to another planet. Slow enough to gestate a baby ... if you mated with an African elephant. Slow enough to plant a crop and reap the harvest ... of Coast Redwood Sequoias.
I don't much care for that. But the good thing about it is that it has huge margins for error and carelessness. You can really goof around and it won't be bothered. This is going to work, if I live long enough. I don't even know why I'm doing this, except I liked the wind, I don't even need any bread right now. I already have more than I can eat. I do this for fun. And to see. And to play with dough. That's all.
When last we looked at this I was complaining about it taking so long to double. It looked like this.
Notice the top of the sponge is below the top of the circle on the glass. Hours after that photo was taken, several hours, I forget how many, but a long time, It continued to rise up to the circle. This impressed me. Since I was ignoring it by then I didn't notice when it peaked and fell back. However long it was, that was the signal to do something with it. If you recall, at this point the starter contains a measured cup of water and however much flour it takes to make a thick slurry, about a cup and 1/4 or so. When it fell back it looked like this ↓ but it left traces on the glass at the level at which it peaked and I marked that on the photo with a white arrow.
You can see that the sponge rose to the top of the circle, more than double the original height. Not bad actually, slow, but a respectable rise there. Can't really complain.
I doubled the liquid by adding a full cup of water along with enough flour to form a stiff ball. Bakers usually keep the sponge wet but I decided it would be more fun to watch it this way instead. At this point, refreshed, it now contains two cups of water and about 3.5 cups of white AP flour.
It proofed at length, over twelve hours, and doubled again.
I admit to neglecting it. I had to pick up a friend at the airport ... Orley, Paris, then drive him across the country to Spain and make it back in time for SouthPark. Okay, I probably made that up. At any rate, after it proofed again at a pace all it's own, and when I finally did get around to it after doing a bunch of other things, the starter looked like this ↓. Still containing only two cups of water, and sufficient flour to become this. You see it's no longer a ball. In fact it became quite wet all on its own.
I reserved a tablespoon out of habit, not out of dire need to keep this starter going. A piece is pinched off at this point because it contains nothing but flour/water/culture. If I waited, then the dough would contain a bunch of other things that I do not want sitting around in the refrigerator for long, eggs, milk, fat, etc. The tablespoon of reserved starter has fresh flour worked into it to stiffen it and to hold it over for a prolonged period of cold storage and so it doesn't go all gooey inside the bag. The starter is at peak of performance with maximum organisms having wild and crazy uninhibited sex in there, and now this small portion must go into slumber.
The bag is labeled so I can tell the the starters apart. I haven't counted but I have starters all over the place in various forms, dry, frozen, refrigerated. I collect them wherever I go. People think I'm weird but apparently find this amusing. They all do enable this eccentricity. Besides, they get bread out of the odd practice, in which they were a part. Sometimes I let them name it.
It's time to make bread with the bulk of the starter. The liquid portion will be doubled again. For the pure simplicity of the most basic of breads, only water, white AP flour, and salt would be added. But I tire of pure basic simplicity. I want to fortify this bread, challenge its yeast, enhance its bacteria. I'll stick with two cups of liquid, but I'll make that liquid things other than water; butter, olive oil, eggs, and milk instead. In fact, no more water at all. It already has two cups, that should be enough. Mind, this is now four measured cups of liquid.
I admit to neglecting it. I had to pick up a friend at the airport ... Orley, Paris, then drive him across the country to Spain and make it back in time for SouthPark. Okay, I probably made that up. At any rate, after it proofed again at a pace all it's own, and when I finally did get around to it after doing a bunch of other things, the starter looked like this ↓. Still containing only two cups of water, and sufficient flour to become this. You see it's no longer a ball. In fact it became quite wet all on its own.
I reserved a tablespoon out of habit, not out of dire need to keep this starter going. A piece is pinched off at this point because it contains nothing but flour/water/culture. If I waited, then the dough would contain a bunch of other things that I do not want sitting around in the refrigerator for long, eggs, milk, fat, etc. The tablespoon of reserved starter has fresh flour worked into it to stiffen it and to hold it over for a prolonged period of cold storage and so it doesn't go all gooey inside the bag. The starter is at peak of performance with maximum organisms having wild and crazy uninhibited sex in there, and now this small portion must go into slumber.
The bag is labeled so I can tell the the starters apart. I haven't counted but I have starters all over the place in various forms, dry, frozen, refrigerated. I collect them wherever I go. People think I'm weird but apparently find this amusing. They all do enable this eccentricity. Besides, they get bread out of the odd practice, in which they were a part. Sometimes I let them name it.
It's time to make bread with the bulk of the starter. The liquid portion will be doubled again. For the pure simplicity of the most basic of breads, only water, white AP flour, and salt would be added. But I tire of pure basic simplicity. I want to fortify this bread, challenge its yeast, enhance its bacteria. I'll stick with two cups of liquid, but I'll make that liquid things other than water; butter, olive oil, eggs, and milk instead. In fact, no more water at all. It already has two cups, that should be enough. Mind, this is now four measured cups of liquid.
It's going to be a little bit like brioche, innit. Some people object to adding eggs to a dough that will proof for two days. I have no such reservations. Pathogens? Bring it. I'll bake your little asses, on HIGH.
I love it when a plan comes together like this. 50% ordinary starter, 50% combination of milk, eggs, butter, olive oil, whole wheat flour, refined white AP flour, kosher salt. What a glorious mess it is.
Boy, I'm really have'n fun now!
Sorry. When I noticed how similar the five photos were I couldn't help but animate them. I know, I know, grow up.
NO!
With the top off, the dough was flinging all over the place. Ha ha ha ha ha. I had to have the top off to photograph it. There are little bits flung all around. Wahoo!
Smooth as a baby's bum. You can always tell when a dough will work. I pinch off a little, play with it. Stretch it out to maximum. Do a window pane test. Roll it back. Squish it. Test its bounciness. When the dough isn't going to work, it's just dead. Dead dough. When that happens you might as well just throw it out. Or you can add commercial yeast and salvage it. I did that once.
I'll let this proof again just a little bit, then it's time for it to sleep in the refrigerator. I won't bother with it again for at least two days. See ya then, Pal. It's been fun.
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