your first loaf of sourdough (yes, you can do this)

your first loaf of sourdough (yes, you can do this)

So, you've decided to make sourdough.

First of all — excellent choice. 

Second — take a breath. It’s flour and water, not a medical procedure.

Yes, there are steps. Yes, people on the internet can make it sound wildly complicated. But at its core, this is about learning to read dough, not mastering a rigid formula. It’s a rhythm. And once you do it once or twice, it clicks.

This is the exact method I use. It’s simple, flexible, and forgiving — which is exactly what your first loaf should be.

before you start: feed your starter

Feed your starter 2–12 hours before baking.

You’re looking for:

  • Doubled in size
  • Bubbly throughout
  • Slight dome on top
  • Smells pleasantly tangy, not sharp or harsh

If you scoop some into water and it floats, you’re in good shape. But mostly? If it’s lively and airy, you’re ready.

Active starter is everything. Weak starter = dense loaf. Don’t rush this part.

the simple formula

Here’s my base recipe:

  • 50g active starter
  • 350g water
  • 500g flour
  • 10g salt

I mix my salt in right away. Some bakers prefer to add it after the dough has rested (called an autolyse), and that’s technically recommended — but I don’t. I like simple. It works fine for me.

mixing the dough

  1. In a large bowl, stir the starter and water together until milky.
  2. Add the flour and salt.
  3. Mix until no dry flour remains. It will look shaggy and rough. That’s perfect.

Cover the bowl and let it rest for 30–60 minutes. This gives the flour time to hydrate and makes everything easier later.

stretch and folds (the strengthening part)

Over the next 4–6 hours, you’ll do 4 sets of stretch and folds.

About every 30–45 minutes:

  • Grab one side of the dough
  • Stretch it up gently
  • Fold it over itself
  • Rotate the bowl and repeat 3–4 times

That’s one set.

You’ll notice the dough go from messy and slack to smoother and stronger. By the last set, it should feel airy and elastic.

This step builds structure without kneading. It’s oddly satisfying.

bulk rise (the part that depends on your house)

Now the dough rests and rises.

Where I live, bulk rise varies wildly depending on the season — anywhere from 4 to 8 hours. Temperature matters more than the clock.

Here’s how you know it’s ready:

  • It has increased by about 50–75% (not necessarily doubled)
  • The surface looks slightly domed and puffy
  • You see bubbles along the sides and bottom
  • It jiggles when you gently shake the bowl
  • If you press it lightly with a floured finger, the indentation slowly springs back but doesn’t disappear immediately

Underproofed dough feels tight and dense. Overproofed dough feels very loose and fragile. You’re aiming for airy but still holding shape.

This is the part you learn by doing. Trust your eyes more than a timer.

shaping your loaf

Lightly flour your counter and turn the dough out gently.

Pre-shape it into a loose round by folding the edges toward the center. Let it rest 15–20 minutes uncovered.

Then shape it more firmly:

  • Flip it over so the smooth side is down
  • Pull and tuck the dough toward you to create surface tension
  • Rotate and repeat until it forms a tight round

Place it seam-side up in a floured banneton or bowl lined with a well-floured towel.

Cover and refrigerate for a cold proof — ideally overnight, but at least 8 hours. This develops flavor and makes scoring much easier.

preheating matters

Place your Dutch oven in the oven and preheat to 425°F for 40 minutes.

Yes, the full 40. You want that pot screaming hot.

If you prefer a darker, crunchier crust, you can bake at 450–500°F instead. I like 425°F for a slightly softer crust.

scoring the sourdough

When you’re ready to bake, turn the dough out onto parchment paper or use a silicone peel.

Now score it.

Use a sharp blade or lame and make one confident slash about ½ inch deep. A simple long cut across the top works beautifully for beginners.

The score allows steam to escape and gives your bread room to expand. If you don’t score, it will burst wherever it feels like — which can be rustic, but slightly chaotic.

Confidence helps here. Quick, clean motion. Don’t hesitate.

baking

Carefully lower the dough into your preheated Dutch oven using parchment or your peel.

Bake:

  • 20 minutes covered
  • 20 minutes uncovered

The covered portion traps steam for oven spring. The uncovered portion develops crust and color.

For doneness, I use a digital thermometer. Internal temperature should read 205–210°F.

Golden brown, blistered crust, hollow sound when tapped — that’s what you’re looking for.

the hardest part: waiting

Remove the loaf and place it on a wire rack.

Now leave it alone.

Cool for at least one hour before slicing. The steam inside continues developing the crumb structure as it cools. If you cut too soon, the interior can turn gummy.

It smells incredible. I know. Wait anyway.

a few honest truths

Your first loaf might not be perfect.

It might spread a little.
It might not rise dramatically.
It might look slightly lopsided.

Still delicious.

Sourdough is less about perfection and more about repetition. Each loaf teaches you something about your kitchen, your flour, your timing.

This is a skill. And you are absolutely capable of learning it.

you can do this

Yes, sourdough has a reputation for being fussy.

But it’s also just:
Flour.
Water.
Salt.
Time.

If you’ve grabbed one of my starter kits, you already have what you need to begin. Follow the rhythm. Watch the dough. Trust the process.

And when you pull that first golden loaf from the oven — blistered, warm, handmade — you’ll understand why people get hooked.

Welcome to the club.

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