Three Mistakes I Made Before My Starter Survived a Toronto Winter

The kitchen in January is much colder than you'd expect. The heater doesn't reach the window side of the old apartment, so the starter jar sitting at the end of the counter was taking the full brunt of the cold air in the early morning hours. I didn't know that. Or rather, I knew and ignored it.

I made my first sourdough starter two winters ago, and that first attempt failed quietly. So did the second. The third made it halfway before collapsing. The starter I began last November is still alive in the fridge today, and it gave a good rise to the two loaves I made last week. I still think about what made the difference.

Flour ratio: 100% whole wheat burns out too fast

At first I used only whole wheat flour. I'd read too many posts saying "it's more nutritious and ferments faster." That's true, but what I didn't realize was that it rises so fast it crashes just as fast. Four or five hours after feeding it would have already peaked and died down, and every time I got home from work I'd missed the window. Without adjusting the feeding schedule, the starter can never find a stable rhythm.

Now I mix 30% whole wheat and 70% bread flour. The rise curve has evened out, and the peak tends to arrive during the bright morning hours. The combination of organic whole wheat from Bulk Barn and No Name bread flour has worked best for me.

Temperature: the assumption that my kitchen was warm

The second mistake was a total misconception about temperature. I assumed that if the heater was on, the whole kitchen would be warm — but I'd never actually measured the temperature in that corner of the counter. One day I pressed my wrist against the jar and the glass felt like a refrigerator. That was the first time I checked with a cooking thermometer: 16°C. For a starter, that's practically hibernation.

Now I use the method of leaving it in the oven with just the light on. Even with only the oven light running, the inside holds around 25°C. At first I wasn't sure if this would actually make a real difference, but the rise height in the 8 hours after feeding changed noticeably.

Hydration: aiming for 80% from the very start

The third mistake is honestly the most embarrassing one. Because all the well-known recipes treat 75–80% hydration as the default, I just went along with it. When the starter itself is still weak, a dough that's too wet can't hold its structure. That's why the loaves I made in the first few months spread sideways in the oven.

Now I adjust the hydration based on the state of my starter. On dry days when the starter is active, I nudge it up a little; on cloudy days when the kitchen feels like it might be cold, I bring it down. Following a fixed number isn't the point — learning to judge by how the dough feels in your hands is actually the thing that took the longest to learn.

This winter, the starter jar is rising reliably inside the oven. The routine of feeding it early in the morning before the store opens and checking on it after work now feels completely natural. I know that if I feed it on Tuesday, I can start the dough on Thursday evening.