Funfetti sourdough, Howard style (Image: Howard Lloyd)
I admit that, when my girlfriend asked me to make some Taylor Swift-inspired Funfetti sourdough, I took some convincing. And it had nothing to do with the fact that I am not a Taylor Swift fan.
Now before an army of Swifties descends on my house or doxes me on social media, you need to calm down. I have nothing against Taylor Swift – she seems an intelligent, pleasant, and talented young lady who I think is a positive role model for a multitude of generations of both women and men. It just so happens that I listen to other genres of music, so it very much passed me by when she revealed her fondness for baking and her experimental Funfetti sourdough she makes ‘for the girls’.
The issue I did have is that I am a sourdough purist. The unmistakable tangy flavour of a sourdough loaf is almost a celebration of all things savoury, and the hours that can be swallowed up trying to craft a beautiful sourdough loaf mean that contaminating it with hundreds of sickly-sweet nuggets of ultra-processed rubbish is, in my view, behaviour so outrageous, it is borderline criminal.
Still, with lots or persuasion, I decided to put my prejudices aside and, in celebration of Tay Tay’s new album The Life of a Showgirl, I wheeled out my eight-year-old sourdough starter and set to work.
The recipe called for a couple of extra additions to a normal loaf (Image: Howard Lloyd)
The first thing to say is that this was not an easy loaf to make. For starters, I had no idea what Funfetti was – Google tells me it is a ‘vanilla-flavoured cake, frosting, or cake mix that has rainbow-colored sprinkles mixed into the batter or frosting, creating a confetti-like effect’. As a substitute, I bought some Dr Oetker Unicorn Confetti sprinkles.
After doing a bit of research, it appeared that, as well as the sprinkles, the only other ingredients I needed were vanilla extract and sugar. I decided to use my tried and tested two-loaf sourdough recipe – 600g of flour, 360g of sourdough starter, 350ml of water, and three good pinches of salt – you’re welcome.
My plan was to simply add the sprinkles, sugar, and vanilla extract at the first knead stage before leaving it for three hours, knocking back, proving for another three hours, then baking in a dutch oven at 220C for 20 minutes. Then, it would be lids off and a final 10 minutes or so in the oven to colour up the crust.
As always, I gave my starter a couple of good feeds in the 24 hours leading up to the bake – and this was the problem. By the time I started making the bread, my starter – which already packs a hefty flavour punch – was as feisty as anything. Combined with the additional sugar, it literally devoured the sprinkles by the time it came to knocking back the dough.
By then, it had taken on a peculiar blue hue which was not appetising. I pressed on and baked the loaves but knew in my heart of hearts that any hope for the rainbow effect had been dashed like Taylor’s was after dating Jake Gyllenhaal.
Sure enough, by the time the loaves came out of the oven, the blue tinge had turned to green. The smell was somewhat sickly and, frankly, very confusing to my bread-loving brain. But, to my surprise, it actually tasted pretty good. In fact, the more I ate of it, the more I started liking it.
The first batch did not look right (Image: Howard Lloyd)
It was sweet, but in a gentle, more subtle way than I was expecting. I have never really understood what people mean when they describe something as comfort food but, for the first time in my life, I finally got it. Gently sweet, crusty bread – what was not to like (apart from the green)?
Any good sourdough will always toast up well, but this one did a treat – I guess due to the higher-than-usual sugar content – and the addition of some salted butter brought a slightly savoury note which toned down the additional sweetness brilliantly. I hate to admit it, but I liked it.
Still, the baking perfectionist in me was not happy with the aesthetics, so I woke up at 6am the following morning to start another batch before work.
The second batch was much better (Image: Howard Lloyd)
This time, I took a more strategic approach. One loaf I did the same but I folded in the sprinkles about 30 minutes before baking, giving my voracious sourdough less time to gobble them up. In the other loaf, I did the same but with some sprinkles I had stored in the freezer. I reasoned that the cooler temperature would delay their inevitable demise.
At first glance, both loaves came out of the oven looking pretty good. To my disappointment though, the first one I cut into – which had the room-temperature sprinkles – was disappointing. It did have the occasional splodge of colour, but none of the ripple effect that I was looking for.
That meant it all came down to the final loaf. I said a silent prayer to the bread gods that I would not have to make a third batch but, to my delight, the loaf had a delightful and evenly-distributed swirl of greens and blues throughout. Relief washed over me.
For some reason, this batch tasted sweeter. The sugar helped it crust up brilliantly and the texture in all four loaves was fantastic.
Howard with his Funfetti sourdough (Image: Howard Lloyd)
Would I make it again? No, is the simple answer. It honestly took me four years of slaughtering various recipes and wasting kilo after kilo of flour before I finally perfected my sourdough technique. I have too much respect for it nowadays to put sprinkles and sugar in it (yes, I am a food snob, in case you hadn’t guessed yet).
Also, the sweetness obliterated any sourdough flavour, so why not just make normal bread – which is considerably easier – and add sprinkles to that?
Do I regret making it though? Definitely not. It tested my abilities as a home baker, looked amazing, and actually produced something unlike I had ever tasted before. I liked it but, for me, it’s just not The 1.