Night Before ^
Next Morning ^
See what I mean? That dough didn't rise overnight, it relaxed. I had to scoop out each floppy mass onto the counter and tighten it up again with a bit of folding, not kneading, but just folding it up on itself to wake it up. A bit of dough yoga, perhaps? The result was only so so as it was the cool temperature of the kitchen that was the real culprit. These
divas precious babies needed somewhere warm, so I took them to the only source of heat presently available.
. . . and then proofing underneath to warm up their tops.
This nonsense went on for three hours until I figured enough was enough. Other than a slight puffing, neither the wheat nor the spelt looked particularly enthusiastic, and if I waited any longer I risked them collapsing when presented with the 450 degree oven that was awaiting them.
The end result?
The big holes in the wheat bread is the over-proofing, and the minimal splitting in the spelt loaf is probably the same reason. Not quite sandwich material. Croutons, anyone?