Bread: Judge and Learn

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the Scottish Bread Festival which took place at Bowhouse, near Elie on the 28th of February. I went on the 27th. No, I didn't get the date wrong: I was a judge.

This may come as much of a surprise to you as did the original invitation from Wendy Barrie, organiser and mastermind behind the competition, now in its tenth year. She explained she had been involved in an earlier contest whose supremo, bafflingly, had decreed that the only criterion was appearance. Quite rightly she dissociated herself sharpish, got in touch with Andrew Whitley, and the rest is history.

I accepted in a flash, feeling as proud as a very proud person. That gave way to a certain trepidation. Then when I discovered the identities and professions of my fellow judges, the trepidation turned to terror. Of feeling that I really didn't belong in this company; of being a fraud; of the imminent risk of being found out. We have the founder of the Real Bread Campaign. A few professors - molecular nutrition, sustainable food systems, seed technology - you know the sort of thing. A couple of high heid yins from the Incorporation of Baxters (Bakers), whose charity, the Edinburgh Bakers Trust, supports the competition. Chefs and cooks a-plenty. And, to top it all, a man who has won the Supreme Champion award four times. And me.

Oh well. They may know more than you, Tom. It doesn't mean their palate is any better than yours. Well, that's what I tried to tell myself, but I didn't sound convincing.

Anyway, to business. With 256 entries in 8 categories you're not expected to sample the lot. There are 14 judges. To my relief I learn that we're going to be paired up. It does leave Wendy and Andrew with the enormous task of trying to achieve some degree of uniformity and having the final decision on the overall winner.

Speaking of such things, John Castley of Wild Hearth Bakery in Comrie is the Supreme Champion judge to whom I referred earlier. And which short straw did he draw by way of his co-judge? Yes, you guessed. Over the next five or so hours he may not have learned much, but what an education I had.

The bulk of the entries are in the sourdough category. If no two humans have identical fingerprints, on today's evidence no two sourdough loaves are the same. An early entry was an imposing example, though it did look as though it had been painted by Van Gogh. I thought it quite impressive looking. Oh, no, said John. That twisted rise on the side is what I would described as tortured. Something to do with the proofing, apparently. Over or under - I forget which. (In the original draft, I typed proving, which John gently corrected. The appropriate terminology is proofing/proofed. See what I mean about education?)

He could tell by the look of a loaf if it had spent too much time in the banneton, or which ones had been proofed overnight in the fridge. And that's before we cut into them. Is that bit undercooked I asked? No, underproofed. Looking at the crumb on the sourdoughs was also an education. In a sourdough loaf, John isn't a fan of the very large holes. On a practical level, it's a pain in the neck when you toast it, as all the butter drips through. And I learn that a few large holes in an otherwise close crumb are a sign that the fermentation or shaping haven't gone well.

More learning. Competitors are required to list their ingredients in some detail. John scrutinised these like a hawk, able to pounce if anything had been omitted, or if there was a misdescription. Canadian strong flour. Oh dear, he said. I was puzzled and asked why. Because it will have no flavour. And he was right.

Flavour was obviously one of the five judging criteria. As with tasting a lot of wines together, the subtle differences stand out. With a pre-judging bowl of soup, we had sampled Andrew Whitley's signature sourdough rye loaf. A great smell and a beautifully balanced taste. Some of the rye loaves in the competition, however, had a flavour which assaulted you. Others were so solid they could have been fired from a cannon with no noticeable damage, except to those on the receiving end.

On the flavour test I think I kept up with John reasonably well in that we were in general agreement. The one difference is that his palate was so much faster than mine. In one sample he could immediately detect notes of sweetness coming through - desirable to offset the natural acidity of the starter - whereas I got it a few seconds later. I thought we were going to disagree about one example. He disliked it, but it tasted fine to me. That is until the aftertaste came through. Deeply unpleasant.

We were, I think, reasonably strict and rightly so. This is a very prestigious award, open to amateurs and professionals alike. In addition to bread, there was a category for pastries. On a technical level I have no experience of this and simply chomped, listened and learned. Did you know that an almond croissant is usually made by slicing a croissant in two then filling it? A sort of cut and shunt, as it were. (Wild Hearth don't make theirs that way). I thought a pain au chocolat was OK. John was scathing, especially about the quality of the chocolate involved. We did agree, in a disparaging way, about a pair of cinnamon buns. And had pastries been allowed in the Supreme Champion stakes, our award would have gone to a pair of cruffins (a cross between a croissant and a muffin) stuffed with a cherry compote and crème diplomat. Yet I don't have a sweet tooth and John is not a fan of the cruffin. While there was much left over stuff for people to take home, not a morsel of these beauties remained after the vultures had swooped on our table.

I hope we'll feature John in this column soon. In the meantime, thank you, sir. What an experience. What an education. What a day.

Wild Hearth Bakery are based in Comrie, Perthshire. They now have a retail outlet in Drummond Street, Comrie open from 8 - 2 Wednesday to Saturday. To learn more, read their website

Congratulations to Courie Courie Bakery, Aboyne who won the Supreme Champion award. Find their website here.

 

Wine News

Our very dear friend Diana Thompson of Wine Events Scotland has just launched her new revamped website. Find it here. You'll discover her full range of events and products. Don't miss the opportunity to buy tickets for the 100 Best Australian Wines Festival 2026 with Matthew Jukes. That's happening on March 21 in Edinburgh Academy, Henderson Row, Edinburgh. We were invited to a press preview recently, and I can tell you there are some real stonkers to be sampled.