A Rorschach Test in Fougasse Bread

On the ritual of intuition and baking to slow down

Most recipes come with a long story before getting to the point, as if the story alone will summon the bread into existence. Let’s do the opposite.

This is just a starting point. A structure. I hope it gives you the confidence to make your own version.

The Poolish: (Prepare the night before, 100% hydration)

• 250g bread flour

• 250g water

• ¼ teaspoon instant yeast (or a generous pinch)

Mix. Cover. Let it dream overnight at room temperature, roughly 11 hours (depends how warm your kitchen is). By morning, it will be alive and bubbly, ready to be transformed into something greater.

The Final Dough:

• All of the poolish

• 230g water

• 460g flour (I used a mix: roughly 200g bread flour, 180g whole wheat, 80g rye)

• 60g olive oil

• 13g salt

• 12g instant yeast

• A handful of finely chopped herbs (marjoram, mint, rosemary, thyme)

Dough Timeline and Steps:

A Few Notes:

• If you use more whole wheat or rye flour, increase the water a little. These flours absorb more moisture.

• Always cover the dough while it rests so it doesn’t dry out/forms a bark.

• A sticky dough can be tricky to handle. Flour your hands, your work surface, and your dough scraper.

• Don’t knock the air out after dividing the dough. Use your fingertips to stretch it gently. Avoid pushing the dough away from you because it’ll bounce back and might tear. And no rolling pins! They flatten all the air you worked to build.

• You can experiment with other flavors as well: olives, dried tomatoes, caramelized onions, anchovies, mushrooms, garlic, or seeds.

• If you’re baking more than one fougasse, always follow a thread. Shape the first one, make the cuts in that one first, and bake it first. This way, each dough gets the same amount of resting time before the next step.

• If you want to experiment, change one thing at a time. That way, you’ll know what difference each change makes. There’s a whole subreddit taunting people who butcher recipes beyond recognition (ididnthaveeggs, it’s a funny & educative one). If you want to innovate, first, learn the foundations. Understand why each element exists before you decide which to break apart.

Fougasse ritual: Why I baked this bread?

I first came across the history of fougasse on a French blog, and I found it fascinating.

Originally, this Provencal bread with Roman roots was used by bakers to test the heat of the oven, a small but essential ritual before baking their larger loaves. It was a tool, a signal, a moment of assessment. Over time, it became a communal bread, something to be shared. Some Provencal villages even believed the shape helped ward off evil spirits during religious ceremonies.

Unlike its Italian cousin focaccia, fougasse is shaped like a leaf or wheat stalk, with slits cut into the dough. This not only gives it a beautiful appearance but also increases the crust-to-crumb ratio, making it much more crispier.

Maybe that’s why I like to bake fougasse when spring arrives.

The first time I saw a picture of this bread, I fell in love with its leaf-like shape. It was around the same time that my curiosity about plants was growing. That spring, my partner and I were caring for our friends’ plants while they were away. One afternoon, I decided to bake a fougasse. We tore into it, still warm, dipping each piece into olive oil until nothing was left but a few crumbs.

And so, it became a tradition.

I bake bread because it recenters me.

When my mind is tangled, when things feel out of control, I turn to flour and water.

I bake bread because I want to slow down.

I bake bread because good bread demands intuition. There are only a few ingredients and the smallest details change everything. The temperature of the room, the way your hands move, the humidity in the air.

Because kneading by hand is meditative. Because it lets me work through anger, shaping something useful out of restless energy.

I bake fougasse because it’s a French bread, and sometimes I miss the world I was once immersed in. The language, the culture, the years I spent studying Political Science in French.

This year, I baked it again for an occasion where it carried its original meaning: celebration, community, and testing.

I used to shape my fougasse like a perfect leaf. But this time, I didn’t plan. I let my hands move freely, cutting slits into the dough without symmetry or hesitation. When I pulled them from the oven, each one looked different, like a Rorschach test.

What do you see in these breads? What does your intuition say?