I am the Huck Finn of sourdough.
I say “my” 100% fresh milled whole wheat sourdough bread recipe because that’s exactly what I mean. I don’t know if this is the correct way. It’s just the way I do it. I don’t know if you should even take my advice.
What I lack in breaducation I make up for with hard-knock wisdom and chance luck.
Truthfully, I tried to learn the right way. I bought a book. I read it. I searched the internet. But there was precious little said about a pure, 100% fresh milled whole wheat sourdough bread at that moment. Everyone wanted to tell me about their 50/50 recipe, blending FMWW and conventional flour. That’s fine, but I was in my zealot era. I was fixating on my newfound passion of wheat grinding with an intensity that rivaled a broody hen.
So I experimented. I tried. I failed. I tried more. I cried a little. I sucked. But then I was mediocre. Then I was kind of okay. Then pretty good, actually. And finally, I nailed it.
And just to be transparent, I do add a little regular flour now. Just, a little. And you really don’t have to. But you can.

healthy doesn’t always = tasty
My objective in making a 100% FMWW sourdough bread was to achieve something both deeply nourishing AND deeply satisfying for our family.
Because if it worked health wonders, but tasted like an Amazon Prime box, what have I really accomplished? Or if I’m consistently baking delicious bread, and we’re all looking like the dough it was made from, are we really winning?
Well friends, I feel like I’ve arrived. Don’t get me wrong, there are still enough failures in my life to keep me humble, but this gem of a recipe is consistently turning out soft, chewy, complex, tangy, healthy, sourdough bread that we {deeply} enjoy, almost every. single. day.
Everyday?! How do you have time for this?
And as with most things, once you can establish a routine, it really takes the cognitive drain out of the task. Eventually it becomes second nature.
Just like when you have a baby in diapers. At first, diaper changing is a real addition to your daily task list. You feel like you’ve spent 37% of your waking hours just changing diapers.
But one day you realize you can change a diaper between flipping pancakes, or driving, or while actively sleeping.
For me, maintaining (almost) daily sourdough bread feels a little like diapers. It just becomes a second nature part of the day..
(That’s probably the worst simile to date. Feels unsanitary.)

So what does that look like?
Here’s an example, which could have about a dozen caveats, but for the sake of simplicity I’ll just list it in a hypothetical, cut and dry manor…
example baking schedule:
7 a.m. Wonder into the kitchen half awake and turn on the oven to 450°F. I take the dough out of the fridge and plop the boule onto a piece of parchment paper, score it, put it in my favorite (enamel coated steel) dutch oven along with four ice cubes and stick it in the oven, covered, and set the timer for 55 minutes. That’s right, a “cold start.” No waiting around for preheating. Feed my starter for later. Walk away.
7:55 a.m. The oven timer goes off. Fresh, hot bread comes out. Pull it from the pot and set it on the counter. I let it cool as long as I can before cutting it, but that’s usually not too long if Justin has to be out the door for work. I throw a few slices of salami in my favorite pan and top them with beaten eggs. Salt, pepper, flip once, done in under 5 minutes. Butter, mayo, salami and egg on a hot slice of sourdough and he’s a happy man on his way out the door. (Personally, I do butter, jam and egg, the kids do what they like.)
1:00 p.m. (Really it could be anywhere from 12:00-2:00 depending on my day) My starter should be happy by now. I go ahead and grind my wheat and mix up a slurry of starter and water. I roughly incorporate these into a shaggy dough, sprinkle salt on top and walk away.
1:30 Return and knead well with wet hands for two minutes
2:30 Return for a stretch-and-fold
4:00 Stretch-and-fold again
5:30 Stretch-and-fold once more
7:00 It has probably doubled in size by now. I do one last stretch-and-fold, then turn it out onto a well-floured surface and let it “relax” so it’ll be easier to shape momentarily…
- Why sometimes an hour in between and sometimes and hour and a half?
- Because it doesn’t matter… that’s not exactly what I mean but we’ll circle back to this. Just… Roughly an hour. 42-97 minutes. Whatever. In fact if you can only fit two stretch-and-folds in, it’ll be fine.
7:30 Cut the dough in half and shape into two dough boules. (That’s right, we made two. Twins. Multitasking. Two birds one stone.) Put each boule into a banneton basket (or simply a large bowl if you don’t have banneton baskets) lined with a cloth and covered (with another cloth or plastic wrap) and set them in the fridge for the “bulk fermentation.” All done!
And here is the beauty of this approach; you have fresh bread for TWO DAYS. Because the refrigerator temperature drastically slows fermentation, you can cook one tomorrow and the other the following day. This is why I love this schedule, it’s sustainable. I only have to repeat this process a few times a week to keep fresh bread on the table almost daily.
- So when I said “it doesn’t matter,” I don’t really mean that in the way it comes across.
- The truth is that it absolutely matters. It matters too much. But you know what else matters? Your elevation. The temperature outside. The biology of your starter. The hydration percentage of your starter. The hydration percentage of your dough. The type of flour you used. The enzymes present or absent in said flour. The humidity. And probably the tides, lunar cycle and your political affiliation. See, my point is, there are a myriad of nuanced micro-factors that you cannot humanly account for. You can stick to the guidelines, learn to read your dough, and hope for the best.
Read the Dough?
If you can read the room, if you can read between the lines, if you can read Song of Songs, you can read your dough.
Is it a shaggy, firm ball of rebellion? It needs to rest.
Is it smooth but reluctant to stretch? It needs more time, possibly more water, and did you remember to salt it?
Is it so goopy that you can hardly stretch and fold? It’ll likely get better with rest and gluten formation, but it could be overly hydrated, maybe add more flour. Just sprinkle about a half a cup and stretch and fold it in. If it still needs more next time, go for it.
Is it stretchy and smooth and compliant? Does it pass the windowpane test? Has it grown about 80% in bulk? Can you pull it away from the edges of the bowl easily? And do you see webby formations where the dough is coming away from the bowl? Does it smell like bread and beer? Perfect. You’re golden.

Let’s count the costs
So let’s say that it took 20 minutes to grind and mix the dough initially and then 2 minutes per stretch and fold x4, and another 10 minutes to shape and put them away plus 10 minutes of accrued clean up time. If you want to count the time it takes to score and put them in the oven, we can add another 10 minutes. That’s 58 minutes of your life.
And if you want to know, at the price I’m getting wheat berries currently (through Azure Standard) I’ve got about $1.50 in hard costs per boule. Maybe $5 max if we count delivery fee, running the oven, parchment paper, etc.
So for one hour of time and $5 of raw cost, my family has piping hot, wholesome, sourdough bread for the next two days… I feel like that’s worth it.
But it’s easy for me to say that on this side of it, I’m good at it now. In the beginning I was wasting flour left and right. I was making horridly sour bread that could have been used for curling (that obscure winter Olympics game). I was abusing my grinder. It was discouraging, to say the least. I can see how people get disheartened, loose interest or say that it’s not something they have time for.
The truth is, it’s the learning that takes time.
Same with everything.
You’ve got to put in your “sucky time” to get good at something. And sucky time is … sucky.

“But I work full time, I’m not home for a stretch and fold every hour ! ”
I hear you. That does complicate things. If you work outside of the house, but still have an itch to make a good sourdough, you could adapt this guide for weekend baking … whenever your “weekend” happens to be.
a hypothetical schedule for the weekend baker:
Thursday evening, pull the starter from the fridge and feed it. Leave it out on the counter overnight.
Friday morning before work, discard and feed starter again.
Friday evening discard and feed again.
Saturday morning, your starter should be primed up. If it is, you can start making bread now. If it isn’t, feed it again and by 1:00 you should be able to start making bread. (Follow the baking timeline from above.)
Saturday night, put your loaves in the fridge. Feed the starter and retire it to the fridge as well.
Sunday morning (or whenever is convenient that day) bake a loaf.
You still have another loaf, you could bake it Sunday as well and let it cool, wrap well and freeze for another day OR you can bake your second loaf Monday for breakfast… or dinner.
What are the best wheat berries for making sourdough bread?
Leavened bread requires hard wheat berries. Hard white wheat or hard red wheat are the ones I am familiar with and I use a 50/50 blend of them for all my leavened breads.
” Why hard wheats, why not soft wheats ? “
*Takes a deep breath*
Hard wheats are named for the climates they come from: hard winter climates. Wheat varieties from hard winter climates have higher protein. Wheat protein is gluten. (Or at least, it includes gluten… it’s more complicated, but “protein=gluten” will suffice for here and now.)
Gluten forms something like a web of structure when it meets water and is further developed when kneaded, and this gives strength to dough. The dough is able to hold on to itself and, importantly, stretch. It gains structure and elasticity. The more the dough is kneaded, the more the gluten develops, the more the gluten develops, the more elasticity and strength the dough has.
Why is that ideal? Because, with leavened breads, the objective is to trap air bubbles. The fermentation process produces air, and if we can achieve a dough capable of holding that air, we have achieved rise! Gluten also means chewy, dense, soft breads, bagels, pizzas, whatever. It’s wonderful.
” Interesting… so what about the soft wheats ? “
Soft white and other soft wheats are also named for “softer” (warmer) climates they grow in, and you guessed it, they have relatively little protein. They make a lighter, softer crumb, as there is less gluten to develop, resulting in fluffy biscuits, cakes, cookies, pancakes, pastries, etc. But they would make a sad sourdough bread and a pitiful pizza.




And, this is fascinating to me, that’s why the northern states, historically/culturally, produced pizza, bagels and leavened breads, while the south is known for biscuits and other shortbreads!

The “starter” aka “levain”
Before you set out to make bread, you need a happy starter. Typically, my starter can be ready to use in just a few hours, especially if I place it near the stove or somewhere warm.
How do you know it’s happy? It should look pleasant, bubbly, smell wonderful and if you really want to test it, it should float in water.
If your starter was fed with FMWW flour, it may have a little harder time holding on to a bubble due to the grainy texture of the dough, so it may look different than a starter made with conventional flour. It should still look happy and float in water, though. Also, a starter fed with FMWW tends to become “ready” faster, due to the presence of live, active enzymes (from the skin of the wheat) which feed the bacteria like miracle grow.
Also, if you’re wondering what “feed the starter” or “discard” means in term of cups or ounces, again, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter in the same way that it doesn’t matter which lightening bug you catch or what seashell you take home. Whatever you do will permanently alter the world in ways you’ll never be able to comprehend, so it matters so much that it can’t matter at all.
The other answer to that question, the one you probably wanted, is to shoot for a 100% hydration starter, meaning the weight of the water and the weight of the flour are same same, 1:1, 100%. So 100 grams of water and 100 grams of flour would be food for a “100% hydration starter”. Or if you don’t have a scale, which you should, but if you don’t, roughly half the volume of water will equal the same weight of flour, meaning 1/2 cup of water and 1 cup of flour will do.
- I literally never weigh or measure this. I just feed it. But when I was new to all of this, I did weigh and measure until I caught on to the feel of it.
Also, “to discard”. It’s optional. I rarely do it. But that’s because I typically don’t have an excess amount of old starter. You really only need to “discard” to prevent accumulating too much starter … because if you have a whole big batch of old starter, and then you feed it, now you have an even bigger batch. And then if don’t use it all, this process spirals out of control.
See, it’s just inventory management. Nothing complicated.
But yes, there are absolutely uses for that discard too… add it to anything you’re baking for an instant dose of rustic, tangy complexity in your baked goods. It acts as an acid, just like buttermilk or sour cream. It does not act as a leavening agent at this point, however. I love it in pancakes, biscuits and muffins!
So assuming you have your hands on a good starter, and you have your life together, let’s put this information to work!
- I joke. No one has their life together.
One more thing…
If you want to look deeper into the magic of sourdough, let me recommend The Sourdough Framework By Hendrik Kleinwächter, creator of The Bread Code. He has a hard copy of his book available as well as a free online version.
I. have. never. seen something so thorough.
Just the charts and graphs alone are worth checking out.
Thanks for being here and may your house always smell like fresh bread!
– Courtney

100% Fresh Milled Whole Wheat Sourdough Bread
Ingredients
Method
- Have a happy starter, bubbly, ready to go.
- BEGIN : Measure out about 4½ cups or 810 grams of hard wheat berries and begin milling. Also add about 100g (about ¾ cup) of conventional flour into the flour bowl. If you want purely 100% FMWW, omit this step, and just mill 5 cups of wheat berries instead (910g FMWW total).
- While it mills, and you stand close by to monitor the mill so that it doesn’t jam up, mix 130g of starter (about ½ to ¾ cup) into 800g of water (about 3 ½ cups).
- Pour the starter/water slurry into the flour and give it a rough stir. I use a large spoon or a dough whisk for this. It does NOT have to be well incorporated at this point- just as long as there are no dry patches or water puddles- generally mixed.
- At this point, I go ahead and sprinkle salt over the top, cover it with a cloth and walk away. I don’t knead the salt in yet… because I don’t want it in there yet… I like to give the starter a chance to get comfortable before impeding it with salt… I’m pretty sure this is called an “autolyse.” But if I don’t put it in at this point, I will forget and it will cost me sleep. 12 grams will do… 2 or 3 teaspoons, something like that. Be back in 15 to 30 minutes for the next step.
- 15 TO 3O MINUTES LATER : Now is prime time for kneading. That’s because the process of gluten development is happening and will peak within the first few hours. After that, due to the microbes consuming the sugars (fermentation) the structures will begin to break down and gluten forming potential will ebb. So, with wet hands, reach in there and give the dough a deep massage. Work it for a minute or two, constantly re-wetting hands, until you feel like its thoroughly incorporated. When you’re satisfied, cover the bowl with a cloth and let it rest. Return in an hour.
- 1 HOUR LATER, PROOFING & STRETCH-AND-FOLDS : It’s downhill from here. Just perform a stretch-and-fold every hour, roughly, for the next few hours. This is a no stress situation… if you forget one, loose count, do extra, it’s fine. Three to five stretch-and-folds total will be sufficient. How to do a stretch-and-fold: pull one side of the dough up, lay it over the top of the dough, spin the bowl a quarter and do the other side, spin and do it again, and once more, so that you pulled from all “four sides,” respectively. Or five. Again. It’s fine. So this proofing step can be expected to span over the next 3 or 5 hours. As you proceed through these steps, notice the difference in the dough each time you return. Try the windowpane test each time to monitor progress.
- TURN OUT AND REST : When the dough is visibly puffed up to nearly twice its original size, you are ready to turn it out and prepare to put it to bed for the “bulk fermentation.” (If you are unsure whether or not it’s ready, press the top of the dough, it should not be too sticky. Then hold the bowl up on its side and let the dough pull away, you should see a web-like structure with lots of air space where it stretches. It should also smell fermented, like beer. Flop the dough out onto a well-floured, clean surface. Let it rest, 15-30 minutes. (The purpose of this step is just to make it easier to shape. If you don’t have time, you can skip it.)
- 20 MINUTES LATER, SHAPE & BEDTIME : I have to confess, I still don’t know how to properly shape a boule. But they’re turning out good enough. Plus, like I said in the beginning, you’re taking my advice at your own risk.
- First, have your bowl/basket ready and lined with a cloth and sprinkled with flour to receive the boule momentarily. Your hands are about to be covered in flour and dough, so get these ready now.
- Now, cut the relaxed dough into two even pieces.
- Pull each one into a long rectangle, something about 12” by 6” and do a trifold. (So like a letter, basically. The top down, the bottom over that, three layers.)
- Now roll it from one skinny side to the other, like a big clumsy cinnamon roll.
- Now we want to do one last maneuver to seal up the bottom. The goal is to create a bit of tension that will keep the top of the boule taunt so it has nice oven spring and makes your scoring look pretty. Try to make the two “open” ends, the ugly ends, of the “cinnamon roll” meet by folding it over again. Put that new seam down on the counter surface, and drag the boule against itself to form a seal. It won’t be perfect. Just take a shot or two, then flop it in the basket PRETTY SIDE DOWN, SEAM SIDE UP. And be at peace with yourself.
- Cover the bowls/baskets with a cloth or a plastic wrap and set them in the refrigerator. They will “bulk ferment” there overnight and are ready to bake anytime within 8 to 36 hours.
- THE NEXT DAY, DECIDE HOW TO BAKE : Go ahead and turn your oven on to 450°F. Now you can go about baking one of two ways depending on which pot you choose (I use the “cold start method described below, but every oven is different, so I encourage you to try both and experiment with times) :
- PREHEAT: You could preheat your oven and a heavy, cast iron Dutch oven. When everything is piping hot, bake bread for 30 minutes covered + 15 minutes uncovered.
- COLD START: If you have an enamel coated steel pot, simply bake the bread covered for 55 minutes without waiting for a preheat.
- PREPARING THE BOULE FOR BAKING : Bring your cold, proofed boule to the counter and turn it out onto a piece of parchment paper (It will now be right side up). Dust with flour, or rice flour if you want to be more authentic, and score. Pick up the whole thing, parchment and all, and set it into your pot of choice and place 3 or 4 ice cubes in the pot with the bread, OUTSIDE of the parchment paper. Cover. Bake.
- WARM FRESH BREAD : When the bread is finished baking, turn it out onto the counter or a cooling rack and let it cool before slicing. I know that sounds outrageous. But if you try to slice a hot loaf, it will be like spooning porridge with a feather. It’s just… no. Let it cool at least 20 minutes, and then it’ll be manageable, and it’ll still be warm. Or, you know what, if you plan to eat the whole thing right then and there, just rip into it. I don’t even blame you. Do try to eat it all today, though. It won’t be the same tomorrow, but reheated as toast is almost as good. Plus, there’s still another boule in the fridge!

Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.