From Mt. Morris, Pennsylvania

When fresh cows' milk is used in the starter, it will not have an odor when it has "worked." You can even use the milk without first boiling or scalding it, if it is still warm from the cow.

When a mixture of milk and flour, left over from the makings of cream sauce for peas, was accidentally left out overnight on the warming cupboard above a wood cookstove, it rose and fermented just as Salt rising bread starter would do. The cook used this mixture as if it were a true salt rising bread starter and found that it did indeed make wonderful salt rising bread!

If you have stories to tell about salt rising bread, please send them to me!

Email: SusanBrown

From Morgantown, West Virginia

I grew up in southern West Virginia eating and loving my grandmother's wonderful salt rising bread. Saturday morning breakfasts at her house were the absolute best....fried eggs and bacon with salt rising toast! My grandmother used to kid me about having the same initials in my name (SRB, for Susan Ray Brown) as salt rising bread (SRB). She said that I must have loved her SRB so much because the bread and I shared the same initials. She gave me this wonderful tradition, and it is because of her that I am passing it on to others.

From Whiting, Maine

One of the most interesting SRB stories I have come across is from a gentleman who was so fond of SRB that he experimented with starting his SRB on oak bark (as opposed to potatoes or cornmeal)! Miraculously, he was successful!  He said that, other than the few bits and pieces of bark that were floating around in his starter, it developed into excellent SRB!  He also experimented with using cheese as his base for his starter, and that also worked.  This bread, he said, had a very wonderful, cheesy flavor.

From Spelter, West Virginia


My grandmother baked this bread EVERY Saturday morning of her life.  I don't think she ever bought bread.  She would make several loaves and a couple of cookie sheets full of wonderful large buns.  We lived next door, and she would call me over just before she took the bread out of the oven.  I would race over and wait (usually impatiently) until the bread came out.  Then I would take one of the buns and poke my finger into the middle and wiggle it around to hollow it out a bit.  I would then put fresh, real butter and my daddy's homemade blackberry jelly down into the hot bread.  It would melt, and I would sit and eat that bun with a glass of cold milk.  I'm 50 years old, and my granny has been gone for nearly 40 years.  If I close my eyes and let myself go back in time, I can still smell that wonderful aroma as the bread was baking and still feel my finger burning from sticking it into the bread, and I can almost taste that wonderful treat.  It's one of my most treasured memories of my grandmother, who was my favorite person in the world! 

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