(From British Baker, first published February 2000)

Every time I try to get bakers to use a naturally fermented sour starter, I hear the odd whine of how difficult they are to maintain. What cock and bull! Speak to bakers who use sour starters and they will tell you the reverse. Start and maintain a sourdough starter of your own – it really is a trouble free way to add flavour and character to your bread. It’s not an additive you need to buy, nor does it entirely replace compressed yeast in the bakery, and, better still, using it will enable your bakers to gain a better understanding of the flavour that can be achieved with long process doughs. Wait up, I’ll qualify this. You need to be organised follow methods exactly, check temperatures, and repeat the routine each and every day. If this is a little too difficult, what in the world is going on in your bakery?

I’ve been helping a friend at his bakery, producing large 1.2 kg white sourdoughs with a crisp crust, a fragrant and slightly acidic taste and a light open texture. Lately people have been going mad for sourdough, and he can’t make enough of them. He uses what he calls a levain, though probably more accurately should be called a poolish or sponge. Though the term levain is often casually used to refer to any bakery ferment, it more correctly describes the method used in France of old dough added with or in place of compressed yeast. For his use, it’s basically a sponge mixed without yeast and left at room temperature for several days to spontaneously ferment.

Once this occurs, a quantity of sponge is removed for doughing at 4pm, and mixed very slowly with cold water and a blend of strong whole-wheat and white flour for 15 minutes on first speed. This dough is left for a cold prove until 10 pm, scaled/shaped up and left upturned in cloth lined baskets to be baked at around 4am. The ferment is refreshed with a similar quantity of flour and water, kept at room temperature throughout the night, and the next day the process is repeated.

It’s a strict routine, but excellent bread is only ever produced by organised and careful method. And we did have our own tradition of using naturally fermented starters in this country. I have to remind you of a little of our own history. Before the widespread use of compressed yeast around the 1900’s, both spontaneously fermented and stock-set sponges were common. Even after the ease of commercially prepared yeasts became popular, older bakers at the time talked of a loss of flavour, preferring the stock and sponge method they had used with success in the past. But these ferments were difficult to keep from souring, often producing an unevenly aerated and beige coloured crumb, a problem as the prevailing taste was for sweet, white even-textured bread.

As we chased the soft white loaf during the last century, many of our good traditions were lost. From once being leaders in craft baking excellence, we reached a point where we couldn’t see beyond the short-time dough. Now we have customers asking for a sour loaf with an open texture and cream coloured crumb. We strove over the past hundred years to produce the whitest, softest, sweetest loaves we could, and now the public want the opposite. Grab this moment – all the supermarkets, food service managers, and retailers are crying out for premium breads with strong flavour, additive and preservative free. This is a chance to show the very best we can make.

(from British Baker, first published January 2000)

Tell me about organic bread. Any difference in taste?

Well, no.

Does it last longer?

Not really.

Then what’s so special about it?

Well, it’s organic.

So what does the word ‘organic’ mean?

Simply, that the ingredients used are free from any pesticides, and their harvest and milling is considerate towards the land and environment.

I suppose this means the other breads you offer have pesticide residue?

Hard to say, I’m not a scientist.

Are you telling me that my choice is either to pay more for reassurance, or pay less and take a risk?

There’s no risk.

How would you know, you’re not a scientist? If there is no risk, why offer an organic loaf for sale?

Because it appeals to the concerns of some customers.

Do you believe in organic baking, or is it just another way to make a quid?

…

Here’s my warning – If you sell, or intend to produce, only one or two organic breads under your own label, and have no plans to turn the bakery organic, be very careful and reflect on the image this presents. Let’s say a baker sells under his own label one or two organic breads, amongst a larger selection of non-organic baked goods. What does this say to the customer about the other non-organic breads under the label? That the flour used to bake the bread may have pesticide residue? You know the consumer is fearful about the quality of British food. Bakeries that attempt to make a quick buck from this fear, knocking out the odd organic loaf, might find future sales of the label threatened?

When we print the word ‘organic’ on a bakery item, what does it tell the public about the contents? We know that the ingredients were grown free of pesticides, but the organic status also infers other qualities in the loaf. It suggests a careful and responsible approach has been taken during the baking process; that, with the fear of pesticide residue removed, it offers a reassurance that the bread is healthier, with no chemicals present that could harm you or your family. At first this sounds like a positive step that will underline a fine tradition of responsible baking.

But this also plays to the fear people have about the crafting of non-organic loaves: what residue or additives do they contain? If we perceive these organic loaves as better, what of the others? Are they cheaply made and of lower quality? Providing a limited organic range suggests to the consumer that we produce non-organic breads for greater profit and display a disregard for possible consequences to the consumer? Now I know that’s not the case, but I’m not convinced this is clear to the consumer. Don’t think people won’t make the connection – with stimulation from the national media, people feel very wary and presume we will cut any corner regardless of the health implications.

There are two choices – either turn the majority of your bakery lines totally organic, or instead promote values that can honestly apply to all of the breads you bake. I support the latter. Reassure the consumer of your respect and responsibility by avoiding chemical additives wherever possible, substituting ‘clean label’ alternatives, and by sourcing good flour from responsible millers (there’s no reason why this shouldn’t be a mixture of organic and non-organic). But this message must be clearly put on the packaging and aggressively promoted.

In Britain there is an unshakeable belief that daily bread should be as a pure and unadulterated as possible. It’s strange, but only in highly processed junk food lines are the public relaxed about health. It’s almost as if an unconscious decision is made to digest as many chemicals as possible. The only certain way of protecting and building upon existing sales is by focused assurance, reflecting this belief, that wherever possible British bakers source and use the finest ingredients to make each loaf.

(from British Baker, first published January 2000)

I get calls from students and young bakers thinking of opening a small craft bakery on their local high street, and before too long I’m digging through files, giving them the names of small artisanal equipment manufacturers, independent mills, God knows, any contact that might help them make it happen. Yes, I should try and make more of an effort to explain the joys of working on the plant of an industrial bakery, but when I do I feel like the careers teacher at my old school, warning me away from a life as a professional magician (I’d be in the Magic Circle by now, probably).

But there was a time when small independent bakers in England used to be admired, or so I’m told. Like the small grocer and the butcher, small bakeries on the high street helped give the town a heart and a focus. Do you remember carrying a warm farmhouse loaf back from the local bakery, or staring through the glass at the butchers at the cuts of meat neatly displayed? By the end of the last decade there were few small high street bakeries left, the butchers and corner stores all but gone, and wistful talk almost all that remained.

I guess my hope is that with help and advice these young bakers might do well, and not fail. My own mistakes and failures still burn at the front of my mind, though in retrospect they probably helped strengthen my resolve. The high rents for property, the investment of both time and money needed, and the dedication required to run a high street independent take their toll on new businesses each year. It is so tempting to try and persuade them not to tread the path I took in the beginning. But they may sense a market that I cannot see, and have a clear vision of how they will succeed. Though galling it might be to our pride and experience, the enterprise and initiative of these bakers will allow some to succeed where we have failed.

The criteria that these young bakers will need to apply to the financial needs of their bakery business will vary little from the practices over the last 30 years. Here we can offer the best support. However the market that practice applies to has changed. Different tastes and opinions influence other generations, and our children have desires and demands that make our own childhood seem other worldly. We know already that they have a different view on the value of excellence and the price they are willing to pay for it. These values can be seen in the clothes they wear, food they choose to eat, and indeed, in the bread they choose to purchase.

You probably know there are many young bakers that don’t read this magazine, have no desire to belong to the National Association or have even heard of the Worshipful Company, but will successfully carve new businesses for themselves in our baking industry. Eventually they will mellow and become an active part of this magazine, the union and possibly even join that other, more venerable league of gentleman baker. The model for their new business will centre on an acceptance of their generation’s tastes in food, and they will reflect this in the bread they bake.

Watch, be careful and offer support to these bakers as they enter the craft out of desire, rather than necessity. I know many of you will, but in my own experience met many more who would crush a new idea given the chance. If we choose to ignore them after they leave and set up on there own, they will remain an small movement or more likely lose the impetus altogether; but if we bring them close and listen to the view they have of the market, we can invigorate baking in Britain, protecting both our futures and create a sustainable industry for future generations. Small businesses act as a catalyst for change in industry. New life into craft baking will help change the public’s perception of bread and teach the consumer to recognise and support baking excellence.