Some Sundays arrive with big “wrap yourself in a blanket and exhale” energy.
The kind of morning where the kettle hums, the light is gentle, and your starter looks like it’s smiling at you.
Today is that kind of day.
This Sunday isn’t loud or wild.
It’s soft around the edges — the kind of slow moment that sneaks up on you and feels like a hug you didn’t know you needed.
So today’s loaf is simple, comforting, and steady:
a warmly sweet Honey-Oat Sourdough Loaf that tastes like kindness and smells like the feeling of someone tucking a blanket around your shoulders.
No chaos.
No rush.
Just a beautiful loaf and a quiet reminder that small rituals make life gentler.
Let’s bake something soft today.
Honey-Oat Sourdough Loaf
Ingredients
100 g active sourdough starter
350 g warm water
30 g honey
40 g melted butter (or olive oil for dairy-free)
500 g bread flour (or 450 g bread flour + 50 g oats)
10 g salt
Optional topping: extra oats + honey drizzle
- Mix the Dough
Stir together warm water, honey, melted butter, and starter.
Add flour and salt. Mix until soft, slightly sticky, and unified.
Let rest 20–30 minutes.
This is the part where everything settles — you and the dough.
- Strengthen Gently
Do 2–3 sets of stretch-and-folds.
The oats will give it a cozy texture and a slightly heartier feel.
Between folds, enjoy the quiet.
The dough is calm today — follow its lead.
- Bulk Fermentation
Let rise until puffy and softly doubled.
This loaf rises kindly — no rushing, no drama.
3–6 hours depending on temperature.
- Shape Gently
Turn out onto a lightly floured surface.
Shape into a round or oval loaf.
The dough will feel warm, soft, and easy — surprisingly cooperative.
Place seam-side-up in a floured banneton or lined bowl.
- Overnight Rest
Cover and refrigerate 8–16 hours.
This step deepens flavor and turns tomorrow’s breakfast into a small miracle.
- Bake time
Heat oven + Dutch oven to 475°F (245°C).
Score gently.
Sprinkle with oats if you want a fairy-tale top crust.
Bake:
20 min covered
20–25 min uncovered
The crust turns golden, the honey caramelizes, and your whole house smells like a warm sunrise.
Some loaves feel like accomplishment.
Some feel like chaos.
But this one feels like comfort — the bread equivalent of a hand on your shoulder saying,
“Look at you. You made something beautiful today.”
Simple Sourdough Sunday doesn’t need to be perfect.
It just needs to be gentle.
And so do you.
The Wild Crumb 
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