The power of food and two loaves of bread.

Hope for the world. How we can care and communicate through food. A gift of a loaf and a recipe for how to make it.

Hello everyone,

I hope you have had a good week as we slowly drag ourselves through a somewhat swampy January. I have many questions dancing around my head just now as I think about the direction my year will take. Where do I want to be in my life? Whats most important to me? What the role of a bakery is within our society? What do I want to be teaching Charlie about food and community? What can I affect in this life? The world appears to be on a path of destruction, becoming more volatile as narcissistic megalomaniacs reign across the globe. I am choosing to focus on hope, community and the language food can give us, how we can develop a closer bond with those around us.

To view this newsletter in full please click the button to view or look in the app. There are some videos towards the end for bread shaping which have pushed us over gmail’s limit.

Porridge sourdough, pushed to the very limit of fermentation.

I have always turned to food for comfort in times of uncertainty, this is a complicated relationship. Today though, I want to talk about the wonders that it can bring, offering the most basic of support to nourish in times of need. I have both witnessed this and been part of it many times throughout my life, today I want to talk a little about that. I will also be sharing the recipe for the porridge sourdough I have been baking at home for the last few weeks. The recipe is for two loaves, I would ask if you can, that you bake one for yourself and give one away. An act of connection, to pass on a little hope and nourishment, in a world which so desperately needs it right now.

Learning about the power of sharing food.

When I was around eleven, my parents long divorced and my mother unwell, I turned to food to help me. I desperately wanted her to feel special, loved, so I decided to cook dinner for her on valentines day. I asked one of her friends to take me to the supermarket, the fancy one, Marks & Spencer. At this time we lived on benefits with many things in our lives uncertain. I had asked my dad to borrow money (he still had plenty) to pay for this, he was not pleased but begrudgingly agreed as long as it was repaid.

I straddled a strange world of having been bought up middle class, but now we were very much learning to survive, my mum unable to work with two children at home. It was a strange secret world, we got very good at hiding what went on. I bought a bottle of fizzy wine and fancy chocolates for her. They came in a matt golden box, it was so smooth when I ran my hand over it, a dark green velvet ribbon tied proudly around it’s belly, it seemed so luxurious. I spent time planing a menu, mindful of her very limited list of likes. Leafing through her cookbooks for inspiration, Gary Rhodes, Delia and Nigella keeping me company. I bought half ciabattas, smoked salmon and creme fraiche to make salmon toasts as a starter. Slicing the ciabatta on the diagonal into thin slices, brushing with olive oil, then cooking in the oven until burnished and crisp. Dollops of creme fraiche melting as it hit the warm toast, hastily covering it with the fish, my fingers slippery from the oily salmon, a quick squeeze of lemon and a crack of black pepper, they were done. Pan fried salmon fillets with fresh pasta for main (bought not made), I hope there was a sauce or something green, but I fear there wasn’t, I was yet to learn about vegetables. My piece de resistance was a Delia Smith chocolate soufflé bought to the table hot and wobbling, cold double cream poured straight from the carton over its delicate eggy inside. This felt like a triumph, this act of mine, swaddling her with care, demonstrated by the liberal use of butter and the furious whisking of egg whites.

I have continued to cook and care my whole life, it looks different now, taking many forms. Dinner for Charlie and Iain, cake for the bakers, jam to my neighbours, bread and pastries to our customers through twelve triangles. The one I am most proud of is the charities we work alongside. Making sure that we literally feed back into our communities, offering sustenance as well as a treat. We work with local schools, shelters and food banks among others. There are many I want to talk about who do incredible work, I will come back to them over time. Today I want to offer a story of hope, a demonstration of the power of food and the kitchen table, restoring pride and building a community.

The beauty of a communal table, a dinner I cooked in France in a past life.

Soulfood

Soulfood are a charity who provide meals for the homeless, lonely and those in hardship. Started in Edinburgh, now I am delighted they are spreading further afield. They began in the church across the road from the bakery in 2018, my mum volunteered there. Every Thursday they would host a dinner for the local homeless community, creating a space for them to be safe (no drugs or alcohol permitted), treating them with kindness and respect. A group of volunteers would come into the church beginning preparations in the early afternoon. They would unpack trestle tables, building a temporary restaurant within the pews, covering the cheap, folding plastic tables with table clothes, setting out cutlery, lighting candles, bringing dignity to the proceedings. They would spend hours cooking food for their guests, creating something delicious especially for them. This meal was about more than just hot food to fill their bellies, it was to give a little pride and humanity back to these people. Remembering what it is like to be treated like a person, for someone else to have taken time and care over you, your surroundings. A place for those in need to gather as a community, to be heard, to sit with a knife and folk, to be treated as part of society.

We believe in beautiful spaces that hold long tables and delicious, homemade food. Spaces where anyone who is hungry is fed, loved supported, seen and heard. Spaces that whisper of hope, justice and transformation. Where there is always room for one more.

From the soul food team

We would donate sourdough bread for the table, this was to go alongside their meal. We also gave pastries for pudding, everybody needs treats, not just food deemed essential, a little sugary joy. If there was leftovers they got to take them away. I will not forget standing outside the bakery in the early evening at the end of my shift, watching them leave the church after their dinner, a little joy marked upon their often serious faces. They always left the building lighter and louder than they entered. Clutching a loaf of bread or an almond croissant to feed them later. A reminder I hope, that they knew that somebody cared about them.

Where this is all going.

Bakeries historically were the heart of communities and villages. A communal oven where people would pool their grain to bake a large communal loaf, a Miche, a dark crusted loaf made with wholegrain. Low, dense and nutritious, easy to cut and redistribute back to families. As the ovens cooled through the day, people would bring dishes to cook in the dying heat for their dinners. If we could find a way back to this, the bakery holding this nurturing position within its community, supporting those in need, once more getting back to the rhythms of a collective. How can a bakery be more than a business?

I suppose is this wandering collective of stories and thoughts, I keep coming back to community, being side by side with the people around you. Looking outwards from yourself, not just what you need, instead thinking what you have to offer. I hope in this Substack some of these ideas will start to take route, creating a network of new communities. I am retreating further into the local, the farmers and millers who I get my flour from, the schools- what are they feeding Charlie, where does it come from, would they like me to teach them to make bread? Can we start to share our skills, our knowledge. I don’t want to horde mine, I want to throw it into the wind, drifting like dandelion seeds, carried near and far before taking root somewhere new. In the vein of sharing this knowledge I am here to offer you all that I have, today it is my sourdough porridge loaf.

Recipe - Sourdough Porridge Loaves

This recipe will make two roughly 850g loaves. I bake mine in tins as it is far more forgiving and suits my family. Charlie enjoys a square slice of bread, making my life easier when he insists on having the crusts off. It also vastly improves dippy eggs and soldiers. Trying to make soldiers with a free form sourdough loaf, slopping sides and gaping holes is not a game I enjoy, especially at the wrath of a hangry 5 year old. This loaf can of course be baked any shape you desire.

I am not going to go into the detailed specifics of sourdough here as that would produce a weighty book. There are many great ones you can buy, although I must confess I often find them a little boring (that’s why I didn’t write one). I am assuming if you are going to make this you have a starter at home, with that, some idea of what to do with it. If this isn’t true please just message me with any questions I am happy to help.

Before we begin, I making this in a house which is currently around 12-14c. I am trying my best to keep the bread warm, it likes to ferment at around 26c so its on a table near the fire, I just accept that it’s going to go slower. You can make bread in cold temperatures, you can make bread with tiny amounts of yeast or sourdough its just all a question of time. I don’t believe you can read and follow a bread recipe with exact timings at home, it’s a lie which sadly sets you up to fail. They don’t do it on purpose, the editors just want you to tell your readers something specific so they have something to follow, we all like certainty. The best advice I can give is, learn to trust your intuition, learn how it should feel or look at different points of the process, don’t rely on a clock. Make bread often, you will learn something every time, that’s how it gets better.

Two porridge tin loaves.

Ingredients

Starter feed

• 73g water

• 73g strong white flour

• 40g wholemeal flour

• 14g starter

Porridge

• 40g rolled oats

• 100g water

• pinch of sea salt

Dough

• 660g strong white flour

• 158g wholemeal flour

• 600g water

• 160g starter

• 18g fine sea salt

• 130g porridge

Method

• The night before you want to mix your bread you need to feed your starter. Mix your starter culture with the fresh flour and water. This makes a stiff starter so it moves slower. This means that it will be less acidic, therefore it will have a softer lactic taste in your bread.

• The day of mixing. I always autolyse my bread, it sounds fancy but its incredibly simple. You mix the two flours and water in a bowl until shaggy and just combined then let it sit. I give it a minimum of half an hour, if something comes up i.e the school run, it can sit for an hour or two. The reason why I do this, is that it starts to develop the gluten without me having to do any work.

• Make the porridge, add the oats, water and salt to a pan and cook until creamy and thickened. Spread on a plate and allow it to cool.

You can either make this recipe in a stand mixer or by hand, I often switch between the two, starting it in a stand mixer to get the starter and salt incorporated then do some by hand. Once the gluten is almost completely developed I will add the porridge into the dough in the mixer.

• Once the flour and water have autolysed you can add in the starter and begin mixing, if this is in a stand mixer keep it on the lowest speed. Once that is evenly distributed into the dough, add the salt. At this point put a timer on for 6 minutes, sit back and relax. Once the time is up I give it 2 minutes on the second speed of the mixer. If you are mixing by hand it will probably take around 15-18 minutes to develop the gluten. The dough will start to appear smooth ( if you are using a strong white commercial flour from the supermarket it may happen faster), when you can stretch it out gently without it ripping it is time to add the porridge.

• Add the porridge all at once and put the mixer back to the first speed. It will take around a minute for this to fully incorporate into the dough.

  This is the finished dough

• Once your dough is finished mixing place it into an oiled bowl, cover it, leaving it somewhere warm.

• I give my bread 3 folds whilst it ferments to help it build strength, each time you fold it you help stretch and align the gluten strands as well as trapping air into it. To fold your bread, wet your hands (this stops the dough sticking to you) scoop your hands under the middle of your dough then lift it up. You then fold it over, the motion is a little like you are coiling it up. You then rotate your bowl by 90c and follow this again, you should end up with your dough being a plump little ball by the end. It depends how warm your house is as to how often you should do this, in the bakery we do it every half and hour, at home I do it every 1-2hours. The first time you fold your dough it will still seem fairly lifeless and will have spread out in the bowl. The second time you fold you should hopefully start to see some bubbles and a little growth of the dough. The final fold is where you should see more significant growth with it nearly doubled and feeling bouncy. After this fold I give it 30 minutes then divide and pre-shape the loaves.

  

  Pre-shape - Photography by Laura Edwards

• Cut the dough into two portions, to pre-shape the loaf, it is easiest to use a metal dough scraper. Wet your hands and the dough scraper, then hold the scraper in your dominant hand at about a 40° angle. Push down and around the dough with the scraper while using your other hand to tuck the dough under, this winds the dough tighter and it will move along your worktop as you do this. Take the scraper out, then go back to the top of the dough and repeat until the dough feels tight and is in a round shape. If the surface of your dough starts to tear, stop – you are stretching the gluten too far. There are loads of great videos on YouTube of how to do this. Leave the dough to rest for 20–30 minutes – it will sink back down again and relax.

• Oil your tins and place them to one side.

  

  

  The steps of shaping - Photography by Laura Edwards

• Dust your worktop and hands with flour, then use your dough scraper to pick up your dough. Do this by pushing the scraper under the dough quickly and confidently, lifting it with your other hand to support the other side of the dough, then turn it over so that what was the top surface now becomes the bottom. This goes onto the flour-dusted worktop (it in turn becomes the top of the loaf again). Lightly pat your dough out so it becomes a longish rectangle, then fold the bottom third up just past the centre of the loaf and pat this down. Then fold each side in just past the middle point so they overlap. Pull the top piece of your dough, stretching a little as you do so, fold this down to the middle and pat, it’s a bit like an envelope at this stage. Next we will do what is called stitching. Take a small piece of dough in your hand from each side of the top of the dough and fold it just past the middle; the top one will overlap the first piece. Now repeat this another three times down the length of the dough. This is building tension into the dough. Finally from the top of the dough start rolling it down towards you. Pick it up using your dough scraper underneath it and lift it into the tin so the seam is at the bottom.

  Video on shaping.

• Leave this out to prove and puff up in the tin, you want it to feel airy when you put it away, then put it in the fridge overnight. It will keep proving in the fridge as it cools so don’t let it become very puffy or bubbly before you put it into the fridge. If that happens just bake it then and there.

• The next morning pre-heat your oven as hot as it will go for a good 10-15 minutes. Either spray the top of your loaf with water or brush it on, then scatter the top with oats. If the bread is fully proved and feeling very light to the touch you don’t need to score it, if it still seems a little heavy you can either leave it for longer or with the sharpest knife you have or a Stanley blade cut it down the centre with the blade angled at 45c, this will allow it any final expansion in the oven.

• Place it into the oven ideally with some steam if possible, you can throw some water onto the oven floor, spritz it with a spray gun or ice cubes in a tray. Reduce your oven temp to 220c and bake it for 30 minutes, check it at this point, it generally needs 40- 45 minutes to bake but I check to see if the top is getting to dark, if so turn the oven down to 200c for the final 10 minutes.

• Take the loaf out the oven and carefully tip it from the tin, tap the bottom to make sure it sounds hollow then let it cool on a rack for at least half an hour before diving in.

Dough shaped and in the tin, dough fully proved before the oven.

The jiggle of a fully proved dough before pre-shaping.

Notes

I have endless notes on bread baking and sourdough never mind getting onto the subject of flours. For today though let’s stick with a few key ones.

1. Always wet your hands before handling dough, it stops it sticking to you (apart from your final shape when you use a little flour).

2. If you use a local or stoneground flour it will behave differently, it will likely need more water and gentler handling.

3. Adjust your timings to how warm your house is. The bakery sits around 21c and we mix with warm water and ferment large quantities this is what keeps us on a strict time scale. Folds every half an hour and a bulk fermenting time of three hours. At home this all goes out the window. Today I finished mixing the bread at 8.30am, I finished shaping it into its tin at around 3.30pm, I am now leaving it to sit on the counter for a few hours or so before I put it in the fridge.

4. Even if it starts falling apart, (I had an epic fail this week which I will explain midweek if I have the time so everyone can learn from my whoopsie daisy) don’t give up, scoop or pour it into a tin, give it time to ferment and bake it. Mine was still amazingly delicious.

Thank you so much for reading, as ever I am amazed and so grateful that you are joining me here. My hope is the more we share the more we learn. If you think someone would enjoy this newsletter please share it with them, it’s free to subscribe and the more the merrier. Please comment with any thoughts or questions and I hope some of you choose to bake some bread.

Emily