Well, I've been playing with sourdough for a couple of years now and this morning produced the worst over grown loaf ever. I tend to be a bit too casual about my sourdough baking and get away with it, but today's mess was a reminder to pay a little more attention. I mixed up a nice white dough with coarse oats using my good white starter. It's a nice, active one and really liked yesterday's climate here in Colorado: warmish with a tint of fall. I use a no-knead shortcut method for my everyday loaves. As I placed the formed dough into the baking pan, I remarked to my husband that it seemed like it might be too big a loaf but went ahead and set it in the oven to proof up under a loose foil tent. Normally, I'd think to take the foil off before retiring and to set the automatic oven but a couple of cocktails got the best of me, I guess.
Some time in the morning I snapped awake, aware that I hadn't heard the timer beep! I hustled down to the kitchen to find that hubby had baked it at 5:30. He warned me the dough had risen alot and stuck to the foil, then when he peeled the foil off, the loaf lost its bubble and drooped ALOT over the sides and onto the bottom of the oven. But it baked up nicely enough, although hubby never runs the heat high enough to get a good brown on the crust. It came out with a thick, crisp crust and nicely pocketed and crumbed, soft interior. It's just looks weird. The dogs benefitted from the blobs. All's well that ends well. Even disasters can be delicious.