Brown Butter Sourdough Bread
This brown butter sourdough takes our first loaf recipe and adds 100 g of frozen browned butter, grated in during the last two folds. It bakes up with a richer, more tender crumb than a plain loaf and a crust that flakes in thin sheets wherever the butter sat. The nutty smell of the browned butter carries all the way through to the finished bread.

Brown Butter Sourdough Bread
Ingredients
Equipment
Method
- Melt the butter in a light-colored pan over medium heat. Let it bubble and foam, swirling now and then, until the milk solids at the bottom turn golden brown and it smells nutty — about 6–8 minutes. Pour it into a bowl, solids and all, and let it cool.
- Weigh out 100 g of the cooled brown butter, spread it into a small container or on a plate, and freeze until solid. It needs to be rock hard before it goes anywhere near the dough.
- Whisk the starter into the water until it’s cloudy and dispersed. Add the flour and mix by hand until no dry flour remains. Cover and rest for 45 minutes.
- Add the salt and work it through the dough by pinching and folding until it’s evenly distributed.
- Bulk ferment at room temperature for about 5 hours, with four sets of stretch and folds spaced 30–45 minutes apart.
- Before the third fold, grate half the frozen brown butter on the coarse side of a box grater directly over the dough. Fold the dough over the shards. Work quickly — the butter needs to stay cold.
- Repeat with the remaining butter at the fourth fold. The dough will feel slacker and look streaky. That’s correct.
- Turn the dough onto a lightly floured surface and shape it into a tight oval. Dust the banneton generously with rice flour and place the dough in seam side up.
- Cover and cold proof in the fridge for 12–14 hours.
- Preheat 45–60 minutes ahead, as hot as the oven goes — around 250°C / 480°F — with a perforated baking tray on the middle rack and an empty metal roasting tray on the rack below. (Metal, never glass.) You’re not waiting for the air to heat up; you’re waiting for the trays to load up with heat.
- Tip the cold loaf onto a sheet of parchment, seam side down, and score it with one confident stroke about 1 cm / ½ in deep.
- Slide the parchment onto the hot perforated tray, immediately pour about 1 cup / 250 ml of just-boiled water into the roasting tray below (stand back), and shut the door fast. Bake at 250°C / 480°F for 20 minutes. Don’t open the oven during this stage — every peek costs you steam, and steam is what gives you the ear.
- Pull out the roasting tray, drop the heat to 200°C / 390°F and bake another 15 minutes, until the crust is deep golden and the loaf sounds hollow when tapped underneath. Start checking at 10 minutes — the butter darkens the crust faster than a lean loaf, especially along the score.
- Cool completely on a wire rack before slicing.
Notes
Why frozen butter, and why so late
Fat and sourdough have a complicated relationship. Butter coats gluten strands, and if you add it early it slows down the network you’re trying to build. The dough goes slack, bulk drags, and you lose the structure that makes sourdough worth the wait.
Adding it at the third and fourth folds sidesteps all of that. The gluten is already there. The butter has nothing left to interfere with — it just gets folded in between existing sheets of dough.
Freezing it is the other half. Grated frozen butter goes in as hard shards, and hard shards survive shaping. They sit there through the whole cold proof and only melt once the loaf hits the oven, leaving thin planes of fat behind. Soft butter smears and disperses and gives you a uniformly richer dough — pleasant, but it isn’t this.
That’s the whole recipe in one line: freeze it, grate it coarse, add it late.

What it actually does to the bread
Two things, and it’s worth being clear about which is which.
The crust picks up thin flaking layers along the score and across the top. Not croissant lamination — the same idea at a much smaller scale. Where the shards sat closest to the surface, the crust separates into brittle sheets instead of one solid shell.
The crumb gets softer and moister rather than more open. If you’re chasing large irregular holes, butter works against you. What you get instead is a fine, tender crumb that eats more like a rich table bread than a lean country loaf.
Getting the browning right
Use a light-colored pan so you can actually see the milk solids change. The butter foams, goes quiet, then starts smelling nutty — that’s the signal, and it arrives faster than you expect. Pull it off the heat while it’s golden brown, not dark, and get it out of the pan straight away. A hot pan keeps cooking it.
Scrape everything into the bowl, solids included. That’s where most of the flavor lives.
And weigh it after browning, not before. Butter loses water as it cooks, and this recipe is built around 100 g of finished brown butter.
A darker score is normal here
The extra fat means the crust colors faster than it would on a lean loaf, and it colors fastest right along the score, where butter migrates toward the surface as the bread opens up. Expect that cut to go deep brown while the rest of the loaf is still golden. It’s not burnt — it’s what a well-baked enriched sourdough looks like.
Start checking at the ten-minute mark of the second stage rather than waiting out the full fifteen.

Make it your own
Brown butter takes a few additions well, as long as you keep the fat at 100 g:
- Honey glaze — brush the loaf with a little warm honey straight out of the oven for a darker, glossier crust.
- Flaky salt — a pinch scattered over the loaf just after scoring plays directly against the nutty butter.
- Whole grain swap — replace 100 g of the bread flour with sifted whole wheat for a slightly earthier loaf. Expect a tighter crumb.
More Nordic bakes you’ll love
- Beginner Sourdough Bread (Your First Loaf) — the base dough this recipe is built on
- How to Shape Sourdough — a higher-fat dough takes a lighter hand
- Whole Grain Sourdough Bread — the everyday loaf to move on to
