Traditional Sourdough Bread: A Weekend Baking Project

Why Sourdough Deserves a Weekend

There is something deeply satisfying about a loaf of bread that owes its rise to nothing but flour, water, salt, and time. Traditional sourdough is not a quick bake. It asks you to slow down, to read the dough rather than the clock. That is precisely why a weekend is the perfect window. You can mix on Saturday morning, let the dough ferment through the afternoon, shape it in the evening, and bake on Sunday before lunch. The result is a crackling crust, a moist, open crumb, and a flavour that is gently tangy and complex – impossible to rush, and all the better for it.

This is not a project that demands constant attention. Most of the time the dough is simply resting. You can potter about the garden, tidy the shed, or potter in the kitchen. The schedule below is deliberately relaxed. It fits around real life, not the other way around.

What You’ll Need (and What You Don’t)

You do not need a cupboard full of specialist kit. A few basics will see you through.

• Strong white bread flour – about 500g for one large loaf. You can swap in up to 100g of wholemeal or rye for extra depth.
• Water – filtered is fine, but tap water works in most of the UK. Let it stand for an hour if it smells heavily chlorinated.
• Salt – fine sea salt, 10g. It tightens the gluten and brings out flavour.
• A starter – 100g of active, bubbly sourdough starter. If you are new to this, you can build one from scratch in a week using just flour and water.
• Kitchen scales – accurate to 1g. Sourdough is forgiving, but guessing flour and water leads to inconsistent loaves.
• A large bowl, a dough scraper, and a proving basket – a bowl lined with a well-floured tea towel works just as well.
• A cast-iron casserole dish with a lid – this traps steam and gives that unmistakable bakery crust. A heavy oven-proof pot will do.

No stand mixer required. Your hands are the best tool you have.

Saturday Morning: Mix and Autolyse

Start at around 9am. In a large bowl, combine 500g strong white flour with 350g water at room temperature. Mix with your hand until no dry flour remains. Cover and leave for 45 minutes. This is the autolyse – it hydrates the flour and begins to develop gluten without any kneading.

Now add 100g active starter and 10g salt. Squeeze and fold the dough until everything is evenly incorporated. It will feel sticky and messy. That is normal. Cover and leave for 30 minutes.

Over the next three hours, perform four sets of stretch and folds, spaced about 45 minutes apart. Wet your hand, lift one side of the dough, stretch it upwards, and fold it over the centre. Repeat around the bowl. You will feel the dough transform from a shaggy mass to a smooth, elastic ball. This gentle handling builds strength without vigorous kneading.

Saturday Afternoon: Bulk Fermentation and Shaping

After the final fold, leave the dough undisturbed at room temperature (ideally 21–24°C) for another two to three hours. It should rise by about 50 per cent, feel airy, and show small bubbles on the surface. If your kitchen is cold, this may take longer. Patience is the only rule.

Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface. Shape it into a tight round by folding the edges into the centre, then turning it over and cupping it with your hands. Let it rest for 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, flour your proving basket generously with rice flour or a mix of plain flour and semolina. Shape the dough again – this time into a batard or boule – and place it seam-side up in the basket. Cover with a shower cap or cling film and put it in the fridge overnight. This cold retard slows fermentation and deepens the flavour. It also makes Sunday morning baking far easier.

Sunday Morning: Bake and Cool

Preheat your oven to 240°C (220°C fan) with the casserole dish inside. Let it heat for at least 45 minutes. Take the dough from the fridge and turn it out onto a piece of baking parchment. Score the top with a sharp knife or razor blade – a single decisive slash, or a simple cross.

Carefully lower the dough into the hot casserole. Cover with the lid and bake for 30 minutes. Then remove the lid, reduce the oven to 220°C, and bake for a further 20–25 minutes until the crust is deep golden brown. The loaf should sound hollow when tapped underneath.

Transfer to a wire rack and resist cutting for at least an hour. The crumb is still setting inside. That first slice, slathered with butter, is your reward.

Troubleshooting and Keeping the Rhythm

If your loaf is a little flat, the likely cause is over-proofing or a weak starter. Feed your starter more regularly and shorten the bulk ferment in warm weather. If the crust is pale, leave it uncovered for five extra minutes. If the crumb is gummy, bake it longer – sourdough is far more forgiving of a long bake than a short one.

Once you have baked one successful loaf, the weekend rhythm becomes second nature. You can vary the flour, add seeds, or try a rye blend. The principle stays the same: mix, wait, fold, wait, shape, wait, bake. It is slow living at its most delicious, and it fills the kitchen with the best smell in the world.