People often assume that because I bake sourdough, I'm a sourdough snob. That I only make sourdough, or that I think sourdough is somehow the superior bread.

They couldn’t be more wrong.

First of all, I love a warm loaf of sourdough with butter as much as anybody else. But I don't believe it's better bread. It certainly isn't for everyone. Sourdough asks for a certain level of schedule flexibility, planning, and free time that just isn't possible in every season of life.

A well-made loaf of simple yeasted sandwich bread is one of life’s joys. It smells like childhood, it makes the best toast. It fills a lunchbox, it gets wrapped in a tea towel and delivered to a neighbour. A bacon & tomato sandwich made by someone you love served on fresh bread? Game over.

The other day I was talking my sister through making a simple loaf over voice memo, and it reminded me what an old-fashioned yet incredibly practical skill bread making really is. Find the recipe that fits your life. Make it again and again. Learn its little quirks. Stop chasing "the perfect recipe" because once you've found your loaf, you're good to go.

That's a pretty wonderful thing.

sourdough and yeast are cousins

For anyone who doesn't make sourdough, that strange little jar of bubbly goo sitting on my counter is just the leavening agent; it’s the yeast.

Before store bought yeast existed, that's how people made bread. They maintained a living culture that naturally captured wild yeast, and it did the work of making dough rise.

Then commercial yeast came along and it was like a miracle. Suddenly you didn't have to maintain a starter. You didn't have to plan a day ahead or work around fermentation schedules. You had this magical little packet you could sprinkle into flour and make a beautiful loaf of bread almost every single time.

Yeast isn't the enemy. In fact, I love having both in my kitchen. Sourdough for the days when I have the time. Yeasted sandwich bread when I don’t, plus it’s my kids’ fav.

my everyday sandwich bread

This is the loaf I make over and over. It changes a little with the seasons—summer dough behaves differently than winter dough—but one of the beautiful things about commercial yeast is how consistent it is.

You don't need fancy equipment. I usually use my stand mixer because it's easy, but this recipe works just as well mixed and kneaded by hand.

ingredients

• 500 g bread flour (about 4 cups)
• 325 g lukewarm water (about 1⅓ cups)
• 8 g active dry yeast (2¼ tsp)
• 10 g sugar (2 tsp)
• 10 g salt (2 tsp)
• 30 g neutral oil or melted butter (2 tbsp)

Optional: a handful of multigrain mix, oats, or seeds once you're comfortable with the basic loaf. The options are endless.

let's make bread

I set the bowl of my stand mixer on my trusty kitchen scale. You can absolutely bake with cups and teaspoons, but ever since I bought a $10 kitchen scale from Canadian Tire, I've never looked back. I find it easier, more accurate, and there's less dishes to wash.

First goes in the sugar, followed by the lukewarm water. The sugar helps wake up the yeast. Sprinkle the yeast over the top and let everything sit for about 10 minutes. This part is my favourite. The yeast starts to swell beneath the water, and then, like a tiny science experiment, the granules begin floating to the surface. Eventually you'll have a nice foamy layer on top. If you're lucky enough to have a quiet kitchen, you can actually hear it quietly fizzing away. Time to add the rest of the ingredients.

stand mixer method

Attach the dough hook and mix on the lowest speed for about two minutes until the dough comes together.

Increase the speed slightly and knead for another six to eight minutes until the dough becomes smooth, soft, and elastic.

by hand

Mix everything together with a sturdy spoon or silicone spatula until it becomes too difficult to stir. Turn it out onto a lightly floured counter and knead for about 10 minutes.

I still do this every once in a while just because I enjoy it. There's something deeply satisfying about kneading dough by hand. It's relaxing, old-fashioned, and a good skill to have.

first rise

Once your dough is smooth, place it in a lightly oiled bowl—or do what I do and simply leave it in the stand mixer bowl! Cover it with a tea towel and let it rise for about 1½ hours.

When you come back, you should be greeted by one glorious dome of dough.

shaping the loaf

Turn the dough onto a lightly floured counter. Pat it gently into roughly an 8x10-inch rectangle.

Roll it up tightly into a log and place it seam-side down in a greased loaf pan. Sometimes I line my pan with parchment paper, sometimes I don't. Either works just fine. Cover it again with the tea towel.

second rise

Let the loaf rise for another hour to hour and a half. These days I don't really watch the clock, I watch the dough. I like baking it once it has risen about an inch above the rim of the pan.

Toward the end of the rise, preheat your oven to 350°F. Some people brush butter or oil over the top before baking, but I usually don't. Bake for about 35 minutes, keeping an eye on it near the end. For me, the timer is almost unnecessary because by then the entire house smells like fresh bread. There really isn't anything else like it.

Let the loaf cool in the pan for a few minutes before carefully tipping it onto a wire rack. If you can possibly wait, let it cool before slicing. Then eat it with an unreasonable amount of butter. Or jam. Or, my personal favourite, natural peanut butter with tons of honey.

the freezer trick

Whatever we don't eat that day gets sliced and put into a large freezer bag. Most mornings I pull out individual slices and pop them straight into the toaster.

Homemade bread on a Tuesday somehow feels like a tiny act of rebellion against rushed mornings.

my kids weren't convinced either

Did my kids immediately prefer homemade bread over store-bought? Absolutely not.

I still remember the bread-maker craze of the '90s when my mom got one. I thought the bread smelled strange. It tasted different from the Wonder Bread I was used to.

My own little parenting hack was saving an empty grocery store bread bag and storing my homemade loaf inside it. Did it completely fool my kids? Probably not. But I like to think it helped the transition. Kids often need to experience a new food many times before it becomes familiar, and that's okay.

one loaf at a time

My love of bread baking actually began out of practicality. When grocery prices started climbing and my boys seemed to eat constantly—even as toddlers—I remember thinking, This is getting ridiculous. If they're eating this much now, what am I going to do when they're teenagers?

So I learned to bake.

Now it feels like a kind of everyday magic. A few simple ingredients become something nourishing enough to feed the people you love.

I hope this recipe becomes one you reach for often. And if it doesn't, I hope it helps you find the loaf that does. Because eventually you'll make little changes. You'll develop your own shortcuts. Your family will have opinions about crusts and sandwiches and toast.

And one day, without really noticing, it won't be my recipe anymore.

It'll be yours.