
Chef Dean
Amish White Bread
Pillowy soft sandwich bread from Pennsylvania Dutch kitchens, where generations of home bakers perfected the art of tender, slightly sweet loaves that slice clean and toast golden.
A cooking platform built around craft, culture, and the stories behind what we eat.

Created by
A crackling, burnished crust gives way to an open, tangy crumb with wild, irregular holes. This is the loaf that launched a thousand bread obsessions, and the one every serious home baker must master.
Sourdough predates commercial yeast by thousands of years. Egyptian bakers discovered that flour and water, left to their own devices, would capture wild yeasts from the air and begin to ferment. Every civilization since has refined this knowledge. The country boule you'll make follows techniques perfected in French boulangeries, adapted for the American home kitchen.
This bread requires no special talent. It demands only attention and time. You'll learn to read your dough, to recognize when it has fermented enough by its dome and its jiggle, to feel when the gluten has developed sufficient strength. These skills transfer to every bread you'll ever make.
I've watched students transform from nervous beginners to confident bakers over the course of a single loaf. The moment they pull that crackling boule from the oven, hearing the crust sing as it cools, something shifts. They understand that bread is not a mystery. It is flour, water, salt, and time, guided by hands that have learned to pay attention.
Your first loaf may not be perfect. Mine wasn't. But it will be honest bread, made by your own hands, and it will taste better than anything wrapped in plastic at the supermarket. That I can promise you.
Quantity
100g (1/2 cup)
fed and bubbly
Quantity
375g (1 1/2 cups plus 2 tablespoons)
78-82°F
Quantity
500g (4 cups)
plus more for dusting
Quantity
10g (2 teaspoons)
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| active sourdough starterfed and bubbly | 100g (1/2 cup) |
| warm water78-82°F | 375g (1 1/2 cups plus 2 tablespoons) |
| bread flourplus more for dusting | 500g (4 cups) |
| fine sea salt | 10g (2 teaspoons) |
Before you begin, your starter must be active and hungry. Drop a spoonful into a glass of room temperature water. If it floats, you're ready to proceed. If it sinks, feed it equal parts flour and water by weight, wait 4-6 hours until it doubles, then test again. A sluggish starter produces dense, sour bread. A vigorous one gives you lift and complexity.
In a large bowl, combine the warm water and starter, stirring until the starter dissolves into cloudy suspension. Add the flour and mix with your hand or a wooden spoon until no dry flour remains. The dough will look shaggy and feel sticky. This is correct. Cover with a damp kitchen towel and let rest for 30-45 minutes. This autolyse allows the flour to fully hydrate and begins gluten development before you add salt.
Sprinkle the salt over the dough and add 2 tablespoons of water to help it dissolve. Using wet hands, squeeze the dough repeatedly, folding it over itself, until the salt is fully incorporated. The dough will feel tighter and more cohesive. Now perform the first set of stretch and folds: wet your hand, slide it under one side of the dough, stretch it upward without tearing, and fold it over the center. Rotate the bowl 90 degrees and repeat. Do this four times to complete one set.
Over the next 3-4 hours, perform 4-6 sets of stretch and folds, spaced 30-45 minutes apart. With each set, you'll notice the dough becoming smoother, stronger, and more elastic. It will hold its shape better and feel less slack. By the final set, the dough should stretch into a thin, translucent windowpane when pulled gently between your fingers. Between folds, keep the bowl covered in a warm spot, ideally 75-78°F.
Bulk fermentation is complete when the dough has increased in volume by 50-75%, shows bubbles on the surface and along the sides of the bowl, and has a slightly domed top. Poke it gently with a wet finger. The indentation should spring back slowly but not completely. This indicates the yeast has produced enough gas while leaving room for the final rise. If the dough feels slack and deflates when touched, it has overproofed. You can still bake it, but expect a flatter loaf with a more sour flavor.
Lightly flour your work surface and turn the dough out. Using a bench scraper, gently shape it into a rough round by tucking the edges underneath, creating surface tension on top. Don't worry about perfection here. Let the dough rest uncovered for 20-30 minutes. This bench rest relaxes the gluten and makes final shaping easier. The dough will spread slightly but shouldn't flatten completely.
Dust your hands and the top of the dough lightly with flour. Flip it over so the floured side is down. Working quickly, stretch the four sides of the dough outward, then fold each toward the center like an envelope. Flip the dough seam-side down. Using your bench scraper and the heel of your hand, drag the dough toward you in short strokes, allowing the friction of the work surface to create tension on the outer skin. Rotate and repeat until you have a taut, smooth boule with a defined seam on the bottom.
Generously dust a proofing basket or a bowl lined with a floured kitchen towel with rice flour or a 50/50 blend of rice and bread flour. Place the shaped dough seam-side up in the basket. Cover tightly with plastic wrap or slip into a plastic bag. Refrigerate for 8-16 hours. This cold retard develops flavor and makes the dough easier to score. The long, slow fermentation produces the complex, tangy notes that distinguish real sourdough.
One hour before baking, place your Dutch oven with its lid inside your oven and heat to 500°F. The pot must be screaming hot. This replicates the steam-injected environment of a professional deck oven, trapping moisture released from the dough to produce that crackling, blistered crust. Cast iron holds heat beautifully. Enameled cast iron works equally well.
Remove the dough from the refrigerator. It should feel firm but not rigid, and it should have visibly grown, though less dramatically than at room temperature. Turn it out onto a piece of parchment paper. Using a razor blade or very sharp knife held at a 30-degree angle, score the top with a single decisive slash about 1/2 inch deep, or create a square pattern, or whatever design suits you. Work quickly. Cold dough scores cleanly. Warm dough drags.
Carefully remove the blazing hot Dutch oven from your oven. Remove the lid. Using the parchment as a sling, lower the dough into the pot. Replace the lid immediately. Return to the oven and reduce the temperature to 450°F. Bake covered for 20 minutes. The trapped steam allows the crust to stay flexible while the dough expands dramatically. You'll hear it crackling and popping. This is the sound of good bread.
Remove the lid and continue baking for 20-25 minutes until the crust is deeply burnished, the color of mahogany or dark amber. Don't fear the color. Pale bread is undercooked bread, gummy in the center and lacking in flavor. The internal temperature should reach 205-210°F. When you tap the bottom of the loaf, it should sound hollow, like a drum.
Transfer the loaf to a wire rack and resist the urge to cut into it for at least one hour, preferably two. This is the hardest part. The bread is still cooking inside, the starches setting, the moisture redistributing. Cut too soon and you'll find a gummy interior and a crust that goes soft within minutes. Patience rewards you with a crumb that's custardy and open, a crust that stays crisp for hours.
1 serving (about 225g)
Culinary guides, cultural storytelling, and the editorial depth that makes cooking meaningful.
Discover Culinary Explorer
Chef Dean
Pillowy soft sandwich bread from Pennsylvania Dutch kitchens, where generations of home bakers perfected the art of tender, slightly sweet loaves that slice clean and toast golden.

Chef Dean
A colonial New England loaf with golden cornmeal crumb and dark molasses sweetness, crusty on the outside and tender within. The kind of bread that built fishing villages.

Chef Dean
Ancient Armenian flatbread rolled impossibly thin and baked until blistered, yielding sheets of pliable bread perfect for wrapping, tearing, and gathering around with people you love.

Chef Dean
Vienna's iconic breakfast rolls with shattering golden crusts, pillowy interiors, and that unmistakable five-pointed crown that marks them as proper Kaisersemmel worthy of an emperor's table.