The house loaf
70% Dala landrace, 30% svedje rye, 82% hydration, twelve hours with ten of them cold. The loaf the mill shop sells out of by eleven every Saturday, and the one we teach first at the bench class.
Every other page here runs field to crumb. This one starts at the crumb and works back, because that is the order you meet it in: you eat the loaf, then you ask what flour, then you ask whose field.
Six of them are worth writing down. The other five are variations on the house loaf and you will work them out yourself once you have the flour. Each entry names the sack it came out of and the field that sack came off.
70% Dala landrace, 30% svedje rye, 82% hydration, twelve hours with ten of them cold. The loaf the mill shop sells out of by eleven every Saturday, and the one we teach first at the bench class.
All svedje, no wheat, baked in a tin at 190 °C for eighty minutes and left two days before cutting. It is not a loaf you make on impulse. It is a loaf you plan on Tuesday.
Rolled thin enough to read through, docked, 230 °C for nine minutes. Keeps a month in a tin and is the only thing on this list that forgives being made badly.
A third emmer, two thirds Sikt 60, because all emmer gives you a brick and we have made enough of those for everyone. Dark, close, faintly sweet. Ten minutes longer than you think.
No yeast, no starter, no waiting: barley flour, buttermilk, soda, a hot pan. Twenty minutes start to plate. The thing to make on the evening you forgot to feed the levain.
Sikt 60, butter, cardamom crushed that morning rather than bought ground. Ninety of them go in the oven at five and they are gone by noon; we have stopped pretending we can make more.
900 g svedje rye, 100 g Sikt 60, 820 g water at 40 °C, 200 g rye starter, 22 g salt, a tablespoon of caraway if you grew up with it. Mix with a spoon — there is nothing to develop, so hands only make a mess.
Straight into a buttered tin, smoothed with a wet palm, covered, four hours at room temperature until the surface cracks like dry ground. 250 °C for fifteen minutes, then 180 °C for a further seventy. Brush with water out of the oven, wrap in a cloth, and do not touch it until Saturday.
“Nobody ruins a loaf with the oven. They ruin it with the water, three hours earlier, because they used last year's number on this year's flour.”
Four hours, 650 kr, one loaf each to take home and a kilo of whatever we milled that week. It books out about three weeks ahead.