sprouted quinoa sourdough



The beauty of sourdough is it really is incredibly forgiving. There is no set way that you have to do things. It’s this part that appeals to me, as me and a regular routine don’t usually skip hand in hand.

Fasten it up, slow it down, make it with more water, make it with less water, cook it in a super hot oven, cook it in a slow oven. Leave it for 24 hours in the fridge? Yep, still good to go. Sure with all those changes, it might not have the same delectable taste of the the local sourdough bakery down the road, but your working conditions probably aren’t the same either. Phones get rung, children need feeding, appointments need to be kept and sometimes well, to be blunt you just couldn’t be arsed.

For these many reasons, this is why I love sourdough. It’s adaptable. Pretty much what ever I throw at it, it comes back with a tasty totally exceptable loaf of bread. It might not be winning awards, but it feeds hungry bellies, and it is good and true in a wholesome kind of way.

Putting sprouted quinoa in my sourdough sounded ridiculously wholesome. Thanks to my little friend Instagram, I have a steady supply of inspiring bakers around the world giving me advice, encouragement and all round inspiration that is pretty hard to top at the moment.

Sprouting had been at the back of my mind since I had had some delicious sprouted granola in Byron Bay, and with a steady supply of encouraging pictures via Instagram it was time to jump on board.

I tried sprouted organic brown rice first, delicious. Next up, quinoa it was. Dead easy in our summer, and whoosh… before I knew it they had little tails. Into the bread they went, which  resulted in a lovely moist, chewy crumb.

With a sprouted quinoa sourdough under my belt, now I just have to decide what to sprout next?


Sprouted Quinoa Sourdough

400g starter

750g flour (5 cups)

500mls water

(5 minutes in the mixer)

(30 minutes snooze)

200g sprouted quinoa

2 tsp salt

(5 minutes in the mixer)

(60 minute snooze)

three way fold

60 minute snooze

three way fold and shape

overnight nap of 12 hours in the fridge

bring it back to room temperature


230C preheated oven with steam.


this post submitted to the bready inspiration yeast spotting

Chia Quinoa Bread

Hippy bread. That’s what my mum would probably say if I told her what the loaf of bread sitting beside me was called.

Maybe it should be called superfood bread? Both chia and quinoa seem to be happily sitting under the superfood umbrella at the moment. Basking their superfood bodies in the healthy food spotlight. Rightly so, as this loaf certainly feels good and healthy on eating. I’d picked up some locally grown quinoa in Tasmania and already had some chia lounging in the back of the fridge. I was ready to jump back into the sourdough making after being away and these two super heroes had their names written down for my upcoming loaf.

After we had got back from Tasmania, checking the sourdough starter in the fridge was one of the first things I did. Actually I checked both of them, as I had put two in different bowls in different positions to try to make sure something was still happy when we got back.

Why so pedantic?

It all started a few weeks back.  There I was on an everyday Monday, with a head full of things that left very little room for much else. I needed to make bread and while in my whole heartedly distracted state, I used all my starter. Yes. Allll my starter. My starter that I had been gently nurturing for over a year, providing my family with abundance of loaves of bread, and I had just used it all.

A sharp intake of breath, a slight sweating of the brow, and a quickened heart beat. Oh, oh, oh….

It’s ok! I’ve got a frozen bit for back up. I had recently used another frozen portion to see how the whole bringing it back process actually worked. I’d also written a draft post on it. It was going to be fine. It was going to be fine…

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t fine. I gave that little frozen starter so much love it clearly didn’t know what to do with itself. An encouraging one teeny tiny bubble a day kept my hope alive. Come on little thing, you can do it, I softly whispered.

It turned grey. I changed bowls. I added more water. I added more flour. I added honey. I added rye… It smelt funny.

I suspected death was around the corner and in a last attempt before quietly putting her in the bin, I turned it to three different bowls with three different ways of encouraging the starter to grow to her old bubbly self. One bowl died immediately, and two decided to give themselves one more go. Two bubbles…three bubbles, four bubbles. Frog spawn! Oh the joy! Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Yes, I could have got some starter back from friends who have now embraced the sourdough pilgrimage. I could have made another, and I could have just let it rest awhile and played with commercial yeasted bread. I could have, but I didn’t want to. I wasn’t the only one who had despaired at the thought of no sourdough. Mr Chocolate had looked on with horror when I had explained what had happened on that first distracted day. Horror again at the thought of his lunch going to have to come from shop bread…

So that’s what happened. But now, the old girls back. She was clearly itching to get cracking with some loaves of bread this time around, as it didn’t take long for those reassuring bubbles to come back at all, (thank goodness.)

Chia Quinoa Bread

2 tbls chia

150g quinoa

300mls water


300g starter

450g strong bakers flour

375mls water

300g cooked quinoa and chia (I had a bit left over)

1 1/2 tsp salt

In a pot add the quinoa, chia and water. Cook for about 10 minutes or so. When the water is all absorbed and grains have softened, cool a little. Add starter, flour and water. Mix together and then I left it for about half an hour. Add the cooled quinoa and chia, mix well (I used a dough hook) then add the salt. A 30 second knead/fold on lightly floured surface and back in the bowl for an hour or so. Another 30 second knead/fold and then back in bowl, covered and into the fridge for a cold sleep for about 12-ish hours. Back out, getting a tight knead together, than into the banetton for about 4 hours.

Out on to tray, slash, steam, and bake at 240 for about 40 minutes.

*This post submitted to the lovely yeastspotting