Why I Bake with German and Nordic Traditions

I didn’t grow up in Germany or Scandinavia. But their breads taught me how to bake.

The first time I held a dense slice of rye bread from a small German bakery, I knew I was tasting something that came from deep roots—not a recipe, but a way of life. And when I discovered Nordic rye loaves, full of seeds and slow-fermented for days, I saw that bread could be both powerful and quiet at the same time.

That’s when I realized: this is the kind of bread I want to bake.

It Starts with Grain—Whole, Honest, and Prepared with Care

I don’t just use flour. I work with the grain itself—sometimes milled fresh, sometimes soaked, sprouted, or gently cooked. Each method brings out something different. Sweetness from cooked kernels. A subtle chew from sprouted grains. Aroma from a fresh stone-milled flour.

This kind of baking isn’t fast. It’s not meant to be. But it lets the bread speak for itself.

Rye Is at the Center

In both German and Nordic baking, rye isn’t a trend—it’s a staple. It has personality. It asks you to slow down. And when you do, it rewards you with flavor that lingers and nourishes. I build many of my loaves around rye, often using long soakers or hot infusions (what German bakers call Brühstück) to coax out its sweetness and make it easier to digest.

Spelt and Wheat Bring Balance

Spelt is a grain with history—it was once called “the grain of monks” in Southern Germany. It’s soft, a little nutty, and plays beautifully with rye. Wheat shows up in my bakes too—but not the fluffy, refined kind. I use it to balance structure and crumb, especially in traditional mixed loaves like Mischbrot.

Fermentation That Follows the Grain, Not the Clock

I use a natural sourdough culture that stays cool and steady. The kind that brings flavor without the sharpness. The kind that supports the grain instead of masking it. That’s something I learned from watching how German and Nordic bakers treat fermentation as part of the recipe—not just a technique, but a rhythm.

Why This Matters to Me

We live in a time where “sourdough” and “heritage grains” are everywhere. But I wanted to go deeper. I didn’t want to chase a label—I wanted to build something rooted. Something that reflects the kind of bread I want to eat and share: bread that feels honest, grounded, and full of life.

This is why I bake the way I do. Not because it’s easy. Not because it’s trendy. But because it’s worth it.