It took a couple of tries, but I finally produced a presentable loaf of salt rising bread. I know I'm not supposed to compliment myself, but I have to say, I am feeling particularly competent after this amazing feat. I fear yeast breads in general, and salt rising bread requires even more skill than normal bread baking. I had to harvest my own leavener. All by myself. And I did. And it worked. And I am proud.
So salt rising bread is an interesting food stuff. Right now, I am saying interesting in the way that grandmothers do when you have presented them with a homemade gift, and they have no idea what it could possibly be. It's sometimes described as emitting a "unique" aroma, which in this case means an olfactory amalgam of unwashed feet, aromatic soft-rind cheeses, and rotten milk. The scent would appeal to those with a palate toward the funky and earthy - those lovers of Epoisses and Iberico ham. Although I aspire toward such a status, when I brought an unknown cheese, Morbier, to a picnic, unwrapped it and unleashed a torrent of spoiled flesh, roadkill, and abandoned salmon carcasses into the air, I nearly cried. (In my defense, I also think it sounds tasty when Peter Kaminsky describes true hams as smelling of "sweet decay ... a heady perfume, just this side of rancidness"(Pig Perfect).)
No worries though, much like Morbier, the aroma of salt rising bread is stronger than its flavor. Remarkably, it really doesn't taste out of the ordinary for a clumsy homemade bread. That is, any bread produced by a professional at the local bakery will be superior to salt rising bread even on a day that you completely nail it, but when you do nail it, it's not so terrible. The texture is a bit more dense than a typical yeast bread, but it isn't dry, and I even think it could possibly be tasty with a bowl of chili. Please restrain yourself from running to the kitchen to try this recipe that I have so whole-heartedly endorsed.
Really I made this bread simply to experience the triumph of leavening flour and water with zero teaspoons of baking soda and zero yellow packets of yeast pellets.
Before the widespread availability of commercial yeast (around 1850 in this country), home bakers had to coax bread leaveners from thin air. Sourdough starter is still relatively well known. It's produced by harvesting lactobacillus and wild yeast spores from the air. The starter for salt rising bread isn't as common; it coaxes the bacterium Clostridium perfringens from its natural habitat in grains. Most grains will contain a little starter colony and one need only provide those little dudes with liquid and a warm place to multiply. They're heat lovers and prefer things a little warmer than one might imagine. 100 degrees Fahrenheit makes them happiest, but they will do their thing 10-15 degrees cooler (albeit much slower), and can tolerate just a bit more heat.
Based on instructions from James Beard and the Shaker sisters, I coaxed my C. perfringens from a starter of stone-ground cornmeal and tepid milk. It's important to spring for organic here. It will be less likely to have the bacteria blasted out of it during processing. Then it just needs to stay warm. I am the proud owner of a snazzy new oven that has a setting as low as 100. The starter percolated quite nicely inside. My old oven only went down to 170, which is more typical, so other options include a dehydrator or yogurt machine (with thermostat control), or you could rest the container in a warm water bath.
Alternatively, the authentic way to nurture your colony is to heat rock salt in the oven and then nestle the crock with the starter in a bed of salt. Reportedly, the salt retains the heat well and will keep the starter cozy for 8-10 hours. As you might have gathered, it's probably this process that coined the name salt rising bread. It doesn't have anything to do with the salt in the bread, and clearly, has nothing to do with salt acting as a leavening agent.
Now, here's the tricky part. The size and quality of your bacteria colony will vary widely across cornmeal brands, the time it has sat on the shelf, and even seasons of corn. Furthermore, the rate at which it multiples will depend on the temperature regulation. Thus, instructions that say - keep starter in warm place for 6-7 hours - are full of it. There just isn't that type of precision here. I have cultivated an active colony in as little as 6 hours and as long as 48 hours. These bacteria will not be bent to my will. So the instructions should say - keep starter warm until small bubbles form on the surface (whenever that may be). When it's ready, and if I look closely, I can see new bubbles very slowly developing. (It reminds me of that green algae goo in a swamp.) At this point, it will have developed its "distinctive" aroma.
Once the colony is active, a new batch of milk along with salt, sugar and butter is fed to the starter and in (about) 2-4 hours the mixture will show signs of activity again. I don't always see big active bubbles on the surface during this stage so my strategy has been to give the mixture a gentle stir and then put my ear right down by the bowl. If I hear little pops and fizzles, like very light carbonation, I proceed with the bread.
From here, it's pretty standard bread baking. Flour is added to the liquid, kneaded, allowed to rise once, shaped into loaves, allowed to rise a second time in the pan, and then baked. The part that is not standard is that, after kneading, your hands will smell like a barnyard and will resist all efforts toward sterilization. Just a heads up that weddings and wine tastings ought to be be scheduled for a different day.
Salt Rising Bread*
3 cups milk, warm
1/2 cup stone-ground cornmeal
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
2 tablespoons sugar
5 tablespoons butter, melted
5 cups flour
Mix one cup warm milk with cornmeal. Keep in a warm place until bubbles begin to form on the surface (6-48 hours). When starter is active, add 2 cups warm milk, salt, sugar, and butter. Stir to dissolve salt and sugar. Allow mixture to sit in warm place until small bubbles form (2-4 hours).
Mix in 4 cups of flour and turn out dough on floured surface. Gradually knead remaining 1 cup flour into dough and continue kneading until dough is very elastic, adding flour as necessary. The dough will always be somewhat sticky. Place dough in an oiled bowl and allow to rise for 2 hours. Divide dough into 2 parts, shape into loaves, and allow to rise in loaf pan until doubled in bulk.
Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Bake loaves at 375 for 15 minutes. Lower heat to 350 degrees and bake for 30 minutes longer. Turn out on cooling racks.
Sourcing: Natural by Nature grass-fed milk, Anselma stone-ground cornmeal, Hain sea salt, Whole Foods 365 Brand: organic cane sugar and organic unsalted butter, and King Arthur bread flour
* This is another recipe that is far too old for an attribution. It was common in this country in the 18th and early 19th centuries particularly in Appalachia, which makes sense because that area was settled by people from the British Isles. Salt rising bread was common in Scotland and Ireland. Although use of cornmeal as the starter obviously had to originate on this continent, harnessing C. perfringens for leavening was widely practiced in Europe. References to this bread making strategy date back to 17th century manuscripts, and of course, the technique was probably transferred via an oral tradition even before that.
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