I’ve been wanting to learn to make sprouted grain bread for a while. It seems to agree with me really well; easy to digest, and doesn’t spike my blood sugar like even whole wheat bread can. I used this recipe, which my Aunt sent to me a couple weeks ago.
It was an interesting process. First of all, I don’t know if I got some weirdo mutant wheat, but my 3 cups of wheat and rye and lentils made about 10 tightly packed cups of sprouts instead of the expected 4.5. I do think I let them “over-sprout” – they were supposed to have just the tips of sprouts starting to show, and mine had legs and arms and even small leaves. And possibly drivers’ licenses. But this took only 2-3 days, which is what the recipe said…
The over-sproutyness might also explain why step 2, blending the wheat berries in a food processor, smelled like I’d stuffed a salad into a blender. Fresh and green, but…are you sure this is going to turn into bread? I was dubious, but pressed on.
I had so many sprouts, I did two loaves. One as per the recipe (over 1/2 a cup of gluten? Seriously? And is it true that 99% of our gluten comes from China? Should I be worried about melamine?) and the other I used spelt flour and molasses instead. The spelt one did eventuall turn into something like “dough,” but the other one really looked more like batter even after raising.
So I did the kneading, raising, loaf-forming, and second rise, then baked. I was still dubious; while one loaf looked like a loaf, the other looked like zucchini bread. And they still had that distinctly vegetable smell.
I baked them for an hour and did, in fact, check that their internal temps were 200 degrees. Pulled them out, let them cool, and sliced them. The wetter loaf was…wet. Sticky. Like, Boston Brown Bread, steamed toffee pudding sticky. Erm. On to the loafy loaf. Same thing.
Ok, so I’m out a couple bucks’ worth of ingredients and some electricity for the oven. Big deal. But hey, might as well nibble a corner and see if it tastes like sprouts.
And no. It didn’t taste like sprouts. It tasted like Grape Nuts.
Whuhhhh?
And…I kinda couldn’t stop eating it. My husband and I agreed: this was the most oddly compelling bread either of us had ever eaten. I don’t know if I’d go so far as to say it was *good*, but … it really invited nibbling.
I’m definitely going to try again, and I’ll blend the sprouts up before they turn from “grain” into “grasslette.” But hey, if you want to experience something that can turn from salad to Grape Nuts, give it a try…

Something I read quite often these days is “We really just eat meat as a condiment.” I know, in theory, that this means meat is not the center of every meal, but what I want to know is, what does that look like? If you perceive yourself as “not eating a lot of meat,” how many ounces are we talking about? Four ounces per serving? Two ounces in a six-serving casserole? Six ounces instead of ten, and lots of vegetables on the side? A shaving of prosciutto sprinkled on like parsley?


My
I think 38 and rainy is much ickier than 28 and clear. So after a rather fun day of shopping in the ick, we really wanted to come home and nest. We threw this on and watched a movie, then finished making it and eating it after dark.
This non-recipe is brought to you by the bizarro-land of my winter fridge:
During the summer, when someone asks, “What’s for dinner?” I tend to walk out the back door and look to the garden for an answer. Now that the garden has nothing but kale and chard, I’m looking more and more to the pantry.

