Open Fire Bread — Flour, Water, and Time

Summer began in a Louisiana that was partially re-opening, masks required, gathering sizes still limited, the world feeling like something that was trying to return to itself and finding it couldn't yet. The neighborhood was more alive than it had been in March — people outside more, cars moving, the sounds of life resuming. But the virus was still present. The numbers were still climbing. The careful, watchful quality of the lockdown weeks had not entirely left.

I was thinking about junior year and what it would require: SAT preparation, the full college application process beginning in earnest, a schedule of AP courses that would define my transcript. I had drawn up a preliminary list of colleges I was interested in and done research on each. Environmental science programs, food systems programs, places with strong research opportunities for undergraduates. I was not anxious about this process. I was organizing myself for it the same way I organized myself for everything: systematically, with clarity about what I could control and equanimity about what I couldn't.

The sourdough starter had been going for two months and was producing consistent results — I had made eight loaves so far, each slightly better than the last. The crumb structure was open now, the crust properly crisp, the flavor developing in ways that made each loaf a genuine pleasure. I finally brought one to MawMaw Shirley, my first in-person visit since lockdown, standing six feet apart on her porch with masks. She held the loaf and smelled it and said, "You made this?" I said yes. She said, "From what?" I said flour and water and time. She looked at me and said, "That's everything." She meant the bread. She might have meant something else.

When MawMaw Shirley held that loaf and said “that’s everything,” I understood for the first time that bread isn’t really about technique—it’s about the willingness to give something time and heat and trust. Open fire bread carries that same spirit: no complicated equipment, no elaborate process, just dough and flame and the quiet attention that transforms raw ingredients into something worth sharing. It felt right to pair this story with a recipe that asks the same thing of you that sourdough asked of me that summer—presence, patience, and a little faith in what simple things can become.

Open Fire Bread

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 55 minutes | Servings: 8 slices

Ingredients

• 3 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
• 1 teaspoon fine sea salt
• 1 teaspoon instant yeast
• 1 tablespoon olive oil, plus more for the pan
• 1 cup warm water (about 110°F)
• 1 teaspoon honey or sugar
• Flaky salt and fresh rosemary, optional for topping

Instructions

1. Activate the yeast. In a small bowl, combine warm water, honey, and yeast. Stir gently and let sit for 5–8 minutes until foamy and fragrant.
2. Mix the dough. In a large bowl, whisk together flour and sea salt. Pour in the yeast mixture and olive oil. Stir with a wooden spoon until a shaggy dough forms, then turn out onto a lightly floured surface.
3. Knead. Knead the dough by hand for 8–10 minutes until smooth and slightly tacky but not sticky. Shape into a ball.
4. Rest. Place the dough in a lightly oiled bowl, cover with a clean towel, and let rise in a warm spot for 30 minutes until slightly puffed.
5. Prepare your fire. Build a medium fire and allow it to burn down to glowing coals with steady, even heat—similar to a medium-high grill. If using a grill or camp stove, preheat a cast iron skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat.
6. Shape the loaf. Turn the dough out and gently flatten it into a round about 1 inch thick. Score the top with a knife in a crosshatch or single slash to allow steam to escape.
7. Cook. Oil your cast iron skillet or Dutch oven generously. Set the dough inside, cover tightly with a lid or foil, and place over the coals. Cook for 15–18 minutes, then carefully flip and cook uncovered for another 12–15 minutes until the crust is deep golden and the loaf sounds hollow when tapped on the bottom.
8. Rest before slicing. Remove from heat and let the bread rest on a wire rack or clean surface for at least 10 minutes before slicing. Top with flaky salt and fresh rosemary if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 185 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 3g | Carbs: 35g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 220mg