Making your own sourdough starter sounds simple enough: flour, water, a jar, and a little patience. So why is mine still sitting on my counter 19 days later refusing to double?
That’s the question I’ve been trying to answer.
I started making sourdough because I love the bread and already had the two ingredients needed to make a starter: flour and water. What I didn’t realize was how many variables can affect fermentation—or how quickly a simple recipe can turn into a science experiment in your kitchen.
I’m still waiting for my starter to become strong enough to bake with, but I’ve learned a lot in the process. If you’re wondering why your sourdough starter isn’t rising, here’s what I’ve figured out so far.
Why I Wanted to Make Sourdough Starter
I’ve wanted to get into sourdough for a while.
It’s my favorite kind of bread: a soft, tangy center, a crunchy crust, and that chewy texture you don’t get from a standard loaf of sandwich bread. There’s something about making bread from a living culture that appealed to me, too.
The other reason was practical.
I already had flour and water in the pantry. I rarely keep packets of active dry yeast on hand unless I have a specific recipe in mind, so sourdough seemed like something I could make without constantly buying another ingredient.
It sounded easy enough.
That was my first mistake.
My First Sourdough Starter Didn’t Work
I made my first starter after watching a few YouTube videos, reading a handful of blogs, and spending probably far too much time scrolling through social media.
Everywhere I looked, it seemed straightforward.
Mix flour and water. Feed it. Wait. Bake bread.
What nobody seemed to emphasize was how much the environment can affect that timeline.
Flour matters. Water matters. Temperature matters. Feeding schedules matter. And apparently, so does the location of the jar sitting on your kitchen counter.
My first attempt was made with the bleached all-purpose flour I already had in my pantry. I didn’t think much of it at the time.
Later, I learned that bleaching reduces the natural microorganisms present in flour. King Arthur recommends starting with whole-grain flour because whole grains tend to contain more of the microorganisms and nutrients that help establish a new starter.
That doesn’t mean bleached flour can’t eventually produce a starter. It can. It may simply take longer to get going.
Still, by the time I learned that, I had already decided to scrap my first attempt and start over.
I didn’t necessarily need to.
But it was my choice.
What Flour Should You Use for Sourdough Starter?
For my second attempt, I bought two different flours: whole wheat flour with 13.3% gluten-forming protein and unbleached all-purpose flour with 11.7%.
I started with whole wheat because whole-grain flour is a good choice for establishing a new culture. Once a starter is established, all-purpose flour can be used for regular feedings, and King Arthur’s current starter recipe actually uses whole wheat or pumpernickel flour initially before switching to unbleached all-purpose flour.
I followed the instructions closely.
By the morning of Day 3, I had bubbles and some visible activity. That’s when I started feeding it twice a day at a 1:1:1 ratio—equal weights of starter, flour, and water—roughly every 12 hours.
I expected it to start rising consistently within a few days.
It didn’t.
Why Isn’t My Sourdough Starter Rising?
I got one impressive-looking rise early in the first week.
And then… nothing.
Well, not nothing.
There were bubbles. There was a fermented, funky smell. The starter was clearly doing something. It just wasn’t doubling in size the way I expected.
I kept feeding it.
Days passed.
Then a week.
Then another.
By Day 18, I was staring at the same jar of white paste wondering what exactly I had done wrong.
So I went back down the rabbit hole.
Here’s what I learned.
Temperature Can Change Everything
Sourdough is a living fermentation, so temperature has a huge influence on how quickly it develops.
My house typically sits around 68–70°F. I’d read that a new starter likes temperatures in the low-to-mid 70s, so I decided to give mine a little help.
I put the jar in a south-facing window.
That seemed logical.
It was not.
I eventually checked the temperature in the window and discovered that it was reaching around 92°F during the day.
That’s a long way from the roughly 70–78°F range King Arthur recommends for developing a starter.
I don’t know for certain that the window was the reason my starter stalled. But I do know I had put a developing culture somewhere dramatically warmer than the environment recommended for it.
So I moved it.
Now it lives on the stovetop, where the temperature stays closer to 70°F.
Your Flour Matters, Too
The flour I used for my first starter was bleached all-purpose flour.
For my second attempt, I added whole wheat flour to the mix.
Whole-grain flour contains more of the nutrients and microorganisms that can help establish a new starter, which is why many sourdough recipes recommend beginning with whole wheat or rye.
That doesn’t mean you need to buy specialty flour or maintain your starter with whole wheat forever.
In fact, King Arthur’s current recipe uses whole-grain flour to get the starter going and then switches to unbleached all-purpose flour for feedings.
For me, the bigger lesson was simply that flour isn’t just flour when you’re trying to establish a new culture.
What About the Water?
This is the newest variable I’m testing.
We have a private well, and our water is extremely mineral-rich. We also have enough iron in the water that we run it through a softener and filtration system.
I started wondering whether the water could be contributing to my sluggish starter.
There is some nuance here.
King Arthur says most tap water is perfectly suitable for sourdough and that the effect of hard or soft water is generally fairly small unless your water is unusually extreme. Highly chlorinated water can be more problematic, however, and water chemistry can affect fermentation.
Our water is definitely not average.
So rather than assuming I’ve found the answer, I’m testing it.
I bypassed the softener and started using filtered water from our outdoor spigot. That lets me avoid the softened water while still filtering out the iron that makes our well water look like it came straight out of a rusty pipe.
Today is Day 19.
I’m hoping this is the variable that finally gets things moving.
What I’ve Learned From 19 Days of Sourdough
The biggest lesson so far is that there isn’t one magic sourdough starter formula that guarantees success in every kitchen.
The recipe might tell you to expect a certain amount of activity on Day 3 or Day 5, but your kitchen isn’t the same as the kitchen where that recipe was developed.
Your flour is different.
Your water is different.
Your temperature is different.
Even the microorganisms naturally present in your flour and environment are different.
King Arthur notes that a new starter can take longer than the published timeline depending on conditions, and recommends looking for a starter that reliably doubles in size within roughly six to eight hours after feeding before considering it ready for baking.
That has been reassuring to me.
Because mine isn’t there yet.
And that’s okay.
Do You Need Special Equipment to Make Sourdough?
One of the reasons I chose sourdough in the first place was because I didn’t want another hobby that required a cart full of specialized equipment.
The starter itself doesn’t.
At the most basic level, you need flour, water, a container, something to stir it with, and a way to keep track of how much you’re feeding it.
A kitchen scale is one thing I would recommend, though. Measuring flour by volume can vary considerably, while weighing your starter, flour, and water makes a 1:1:1 feeding much more consistent. King Arthur specifically recommends using a scale for sourdough starter.
I’m learning that sourdough doesn’t need to be complicated.
I just managed to make it complicated anyway.
My Sourdough Starter Troubleshooting Checklist
If you’re staring at a jar of starter that isn’t behaving the way you expected, these are the things I’m checking before I change anything else:
- Temperature: Is the starter somewhere around 70–78°F, rather than sitting somewhere unusually hot or cold?
- Flour: Are you using unbleached flour? Whole wheat or another whole-grain flour can be especially helpful when establishing a new starter.
- Water: Is your water heavily chlorinated or unusually hard or soft?
- Feeding schedule: Are you feeding consistently rather than changing the ratio or timing every day?
- Measurements: Are you weighing your ingredients so your feeding ratio stays consistent?
- Time: Is the starter actually ready, or am I expecting it to follow someone else’s timeline?
That last one may be the hardest for me.
I wanted a starter that behaved like the one in the recipe.
Instead, I got one that is forcing me to pay attention.
The Sourdough Resources I’m Using
The internet is full of sourdough advice.
Some of it is excellent. Some of it is contradictory. And some of it will have you buying seven different flours, a temperature-controlled proofing chamber, and a $200 jar before you’ve even baked your first loaf.
I’m trying not to go down that road.
One resource I’ve found particularly useful is King Arthur Baking. Their sourdough guides cover everything from creating and feeding a starter to troubleshooting sluggish fermentation, and they even offer a Baker’s Hotline where you can get help from their baking team.
I’ve barely scratched the surface of what they offer, but knowing there’s a reliable place to go when I get stuck has made the process feel much less intimidating.
Where My Starter Stands Now
As I write this, I’m on Day 19.
I’ve changed the flour.
I’ve moved the jar.
I’ve changed the water.
I’ve read more about fermentation than I ever expected to.
And I’m still waiting.
Maybe the filtered well water will be the answer. Maybe it won’t. If it doesn’t, I’ll figure out what to test next.
That’s actually becoming my favorite part of this process.
Not because it’s easy.
Because I’m learning.
I started sourdough thinking I was going to learn how to make bread. Instead, I’m learning how to pay attention to the things I can’t control—the temperature of my kitchen, the flour I’m using, the water coming out of my tap, and the fact that fermentation doesn’t particularly care about my timeline.
One day, I will make that first loaf.
And when I do, I’ll know exactly how much went into the little jar that made it possible.
Maybe someday, when Brandon and I are old and gray, I’ll be able to tell him I started this the year we got married.
For now, I’m just hoping the thing starts doubling.