Milling our own, three mornings a week
Stone-milled flour goes stale faster than most people think. That's the whole reason we grind our own — and why the Thursday loaf tastes of more than wheat.
There’s a tabletop stone mill in the front window. It isn’t for show, though it is quietly hypnotic to watch. It runs on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings, and it’s the reason the wholegrain in a Thursday loaf was a whole berry on Wednesday.
Fresh flour is a perishable thing
Whole wheat carries its germ, and the germ carries oil. Grind it and that oil is exposed to air — within a couple of weeks it starts to turn, first flat, then faintly bitter. Roller-milled supermarket flour dodges this by removing the germ entirely, which is tidy and also throws away most of the flavour and half the reason to eat wholegrain at all.
Stone milling keeps the germ in. That’s the point, and it’s also the catch: the flour is best within days. So either you mill little and often, or you don’t really get the benefit.
What it changes in the bread
- More flavour, obviously — nutty, grassy, a little sweet, none of which survives a month in a paper sack.
- Faster fermentation. Live germ and bran feed the culture; a wholegrain dough proofs quicker than a white one at the same temperature, which we account for on the schedule.
- A softer crumb than people expect from wholegrain, because we mill fine and hydrate high.
The grain
We buy grain, not flour, from two farms within the county — a heritage wheat and a rye we malt ourselves for the dark loaf. Buying the berry means we control the grind: coarse for the seeded hearth, fine for the everyday sourdough, and a middling break for the rye.
It’s more work than ordering flour by the pallet. It’s also the difference you taste and can’t quite name. Now you can name it: it’s Wednesday’s wheat.