Classic White Sourdough Boule: The Recipe I’ve Made 200 Times and Still Love

I want to tell you about the time I confidently handed my neighbor a loaf of what I called my “best sourdough yet” — only to watch her slice into it and find a raw, gummy, completely unbaked center. She was very polite about it. I was not very calm about it. That loaf went straight into the trash, I went straight to the internet, and somewhere between a meltdown and a revelation, I finally figured out what makes a truly reliable classic white sourdough boule recipe tick. That was about 198 loaves ago. Now? I make this bread in my sleep, and it comes out right every single time.

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If you have been chasing a white sourdough boule that has a crackly crust, an open, chewy crumb, and that deep tang you only get from a well-fermented dough, you are in exactly the right place. I have made enough mistakes with this bread to fill a small memoir, and I have packed everything I learned into this post so you can skip the gummy disasters and go straight to the good stuff.

The Embarrassing Backstory (AKA Why I Became Obsessed)

Let me back up. The neighbor incident happened on a Sunday afternoon in October. I had been baking sourdough for about three months at that point, and I was dangerously overconfident. My loaves looked gorgeous on the outside — beautifully scored, deeply colored, shaped like they belonged in a Parisian bakery window. The problem was I kept cutting into them too early. I had also been bulk fermenting by the clock instead of by the dough, which meant I was loading underdeveloped, under-proofed loaves into the oven and then wondering why they looked fine but tasted like paste inside.

So when I handed that loaf over the fence and she said, “Oh, the inside is still a little… wet?” I wanted to dissolve into the earth. But something clicked. I stopped guessing. I started watching. I learned what a properly fermented dough actually feels like, smells like, and looks like. And I stopped pulling my bread out of the oven before it was truly done. Small changes. Massive difference.

What You’ll Need for This Classic White Sourdough Boule Recipe

Let’s talk gear and ingredients before we get into the method, because both matter more than most beginner guides admit.

The Dutch Oven

A Dutch oven is non-negotiable for a boule like this. The lid traps steam in the first half of the bake, which keeps the crust soft long enough for the loaf to spring up fully before it sets. Without that steam, you get a tight, pale, flat loaf. I have been baking with the Umite Chef 5QT Enameled Cast Iron Dutch Oven in Cream White, and honestly it is one of my favorite things in my kitchen. The 5-quart size is perfect for a standard home baker boule, the enamel cleans up beautifully, and it heats evenly without any hot spots. It also comes with cotton potholders, which, trust me, you will need. Cast iron at 500°F is not something you want to grab bare-handed. Ask me how I know.

If cream white is not your color, the same pot also comes in a stunning bold Red and a beautiful rich Green. I genuinely have all three on my wish list because I have a problem, but they are also excellent gifts if someone you love has recently discovered sourdough and will not stop talking about it.

The Flour

Flour is where I refused to compromise once I got serious, and it changed everything. I use King Arthur 100% Organic Bread Flour for this recipe. The higher protein content gives your gluten network real strength, which means better oven spring, better crumb structure, and a loaf that holds its shape during proofing instead of spreading out like a sad pancake. It is non-GMO verified and has no preservatives, which I appreciate. If you want to stock up and save a little, you can also grab the King Arthur Organic Bread Flour in a 2-pack, which is what I do now because I go through it fast enough that buying two at a time just makes sense.

Everything Else You’ll Need

  • Active, bubbly sourdough starter (fed 4 to 12 hours before you plan to mix)
  • Fine sea salt
  • Filtered or room temperature water
  • A medium mixing bowl and a large bowl for bulk fermentation
  • A bench scraper for shaping
  • A banneton or a bowl lined with a well-floured kitchen towel
  • A sharp lame or bread scoring knife

The Recipe: Step by Step

The Formula

  • 450g King Arthur bread flour
  • 325g filtered water (about 72% hydration)
  • 90g active starter (100% hydration)
  • 9g fine sea salt

Step 1: Autolyse

Mix your flour and 300g of the water (holding back 25g for later) until no dry flour remains. Cover and rest for 30 to 60 minutes. This rest period, called autolyse, lets the flour hydrate fully and begins gluten development before you even add the starter. Your dough will already feel silkier and more extensible when you come back to it, which makes every step after this easier.

Step 2: Add Starter and Salt

Add your active starter to the dough and squeeze it in with your fingers until incorporated. Then dissolve your salt in the remaining 25g of water and add that too. Mix until everything is fully combined. The dough will feel a little shaggy and annoyed with you. That is fine.

Step 3: Bulk Fermentation with Stretch and Folds

This is where the magic happens, and also where past-me went wrong every single time. Bulk fermentation is not a fixed number of hours. It is done when the dough has grown 50 to 75 percent in volume, feels airy and domed on top, and has visible bubbles around the edges. At 75 to 78 degrees Fahrenheit, that usually takes 4 to 6 hours. In a cold kitchen it could take 8 or more.

During the first two hours, perform four sets of stretch and folds, spaced about 30 minutes apart. Wet your hand, grab one side of the dough, stretch it up high, and fold it over the center. Rotate the bowl and repeat on all four sides. After four rounds of this, leave the dough alone and let it finish fermenting undisturbed.

Step 4: Shape and Cold Proof

Tip the dough onto an unfloured surface and do a gentle pre-shape, letting it rest for 20 minutes. Then do your final shape by pulling the dough toward you to create surface tension, folding it into a tight round. Place it seam-side up in a well-floured banneton, cover it, and refrigerate overnight or for 8 to 16 hours. The cold proof slows fermentation, develops flavor, and makes the dough much easier to score cleanly.

Step 5: Bake

Place your Dutch oven in the oven and preheat to 500°F for at least 45 minutes. You want that pot scorching hot. Take the dough straight from the fridge, score it quickly with a confident single slash or decorative cut, and lower it carefully into the preheated pot. Bake covered for 20 minutes. Remove the lid and bake another 20 to 25 minutes until the crust is deep amber. The internal temperature should read at least 205°F. Then — and this is the lesson I learned the hard way — let it cool on a wire rack for at least one hour before cutting. The crumb continues setting as it cools. Cut too soon and