Some Sundays feel like they arrived on tiptoe — soft light through the curtains, a still house, a moment where even your starter seems to whisper instead of bubble.

This is the kind of morning meant for herbs.
For warm hands, slow dough, and the scent of rosemary drifting through a quiet kitchen like a blessing.

Today’s loaf is a little spell in itself: fragrant, earthy, healing.
A bread that tastes like a walk through the woods after rain, with pockets of olive oil and tender crumb shaped by gentle patience.

Let’s craft something enchantingly simple.


Rosemary Olive Oil Sourdough

Ingredients

100 g active sourdough starter

350 g warm water

25 g olive oil

500 g bread flour

10 g salt

1–2 tbsp fresh rosemary, finely chopped

Optional: flaky sea salt for the top


  1. Begin the Dough

In a large bowl, whisk together warm water, olive oil, and your starter.
Stir in flour and salt until a soft, rustic dough forms.
Let it rest 20–30 minutes, absorbing moisture and relaxing.

Think of this as letting the dough stretch its sleepy morning limbs.


  1. Strengthen With a Gentle Hand

Perform 2–3 sets of stretch-and-folds, resting 20–30 minutes between each.

After the first set, sprinkle in your chopped rosemary.
Fold it in slowly, as if tucking herbs into a nice warm bed.

The dough will become silkier with each touch.


  1. Bulk Ferment

Cover and let rise until puffy and aerated — anywhere from 3–5 hours, depending on how warm your kitchen feels today.

The rosemary scent will deepen as the dough awakens.


  1. Shape the Loaf

Turn onto a lightly floured surface.
Shape into a round or oval loaf, letting the dough gather itself into a soft, tense bundle.

Place seam-side-up in a floured banneton or cloth-lined bowl.
Let it rest while you prepare the night


  1. Cold Overnight Rest

Refrigerate 8–16 hours.
As it sleeps, the flavors settle into something earthy and comforting.


  1. Bake the Quiet Magic

Preheat oven + Dutch oven to 475°F (245°C).
Flip loaf into the hot Dutch Oven, score with a gentle hand, and sprinkle with rosemary or flaky sea salt if you like a little sparkle.

Bake:

20 minutes covered

20–25 minutes uncovered

The crust should sing as it cools — a tiny spell of its own.


Herbs have a way of grounding us — rosemary especially, with its old-world comfort and evergreen steadiness.
Baked into bread, it becomes a small charm for the week ahead: warmth, clarity, nourishment.

May this loaf carry a bit of forest calm into your kitchen
and remind you that simple things — like dough, herbs, and Sunday softness —
can feel like magic if you let them.

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