Cold proof in the fridge, and why I like it
We've covered bulk fermentation on the counter, and the case for watching your dough instead of the clock, since things move fast at our elevation. Today the plan is to slow all of it down on purpose, by putting the dough in the fridge.
This is called cold proofing, or a cold retard if you want the fancier term for it. Basically, after you've shaped your loaf, instead of letting it do its final rise on the counter for an hour or two, you put it in the fridge overnight. Sometimes longer.
I like it for a few reasons.
Why I do this
First, it fixes a timing problem that's specific to us. I've mentioned this before but it bears repeating here — our house moves fast, especially in summer, and a recipe written by someone at sea level is basically lying to you about how long things take. That overproofing lesson we did? Same issue. I once followed a recipe that said let your shaped loaf rise on the counter for two hours, and up here at 4,600 feet in July that dough was done in about forty-five minutes. I baked it late because I was watching the clock instead of the dough, and it fell flat when I scored it. Slack, wouldn't hold its shape, just spread out sad on the tray.
The fridge takes that whole guessing game and slows it way down. Cold dough ferments slow. So instead of a narrow window where you have to catch it exactly right, you get hours. A lot of hours. Overnight easily, sometimes I push it to 24 or even 36 if life happens and I can't bake.
Second reason, and this is just me, I prefer the flavor. Cold fermentation gives the yeast and the bacteria more time to do their thing without racing. You get more sour, more complexity. Not a huge dramatic difference, but noticeable. My husband David can tell the difference between a same-day loaf and one that sat in the fridge overnight. So can I, mostly.
Third, it's just practical for real life. You shape your loaf in the evening, put it in the fridge, go to bed, and bake in the morning whenever you actually have time. Nobody's schedule matches a recipe's schedule. Mine sure doesn't.
How to actually do it
Shape your loaf same as you normally would — I'm still not going to pretend I'm great at the tight, pretty shaping; mine come out a little lumpy and that's fine, they still taste right.
Put your shaped dough into your banneton or a bowl lined with a floured towel, seam side up.
Cover it. This matters more in the fridge than you'd think, because fridges are dry too, so use a shower cap, a plastic bag, plastic wrap, whatever you've got, snug over the top.
Put it in the fridge. Not the freezer, obviously, and not right up against the back wall where it's coldest and can actually freeze the edges. I keep mine on a middle shelf.
Leave it. Overnight is the easy default, call it 8 to 12 hours. You can go longer — I've gone up to about 36 hours and had good bread; past that it starts getting really sour and the structure can get a little iffy. You'll know your own preference after you've tried it a couple times.
The baking part
Where people mess up: you can bake straight from the fridge. You don't need to let it warm up first. Cold dough into a hot oven is actually a little easier to score cleanly, because it's firmer.
Preheat your oven and your dutch oven same as always, pull the dough out, score it — one slash, that's my whole scoring repertoire and I'm not pretending otherwise — and put it straight in.
It might need a couple extra minutes of bake time since it's starting cold. Watch the color, not the timer.
One caution
The dutch oven's still going to be somewhere around 450-500 degrees. Cold dough, hot pot, you're moving fast to get it in there and the handle is exactly as hot as it was every other time. Oven mitts, both hands, don't rush it because you're excited the dough looks good.
Before next time
Try shaping a loaf tonight or tomorrow and let it sit in the fridge overnight instead of baking same day, and see if you notice a flavor difference. Bring your notebook notes to the next session — I want to hear what you saw.
- J