The Rye Suite
180 g of flour a night
Our best room: a south-facing shelf of its own, a linen cover and a view of the bread bin. Turn-down at 22:00 with one extra teaspoon of rye.
- One jar, up to 1.5 litres
- Private linen cover
- Sleep mask on request
Daily routine
The day, by the clock
Every guest keeps our hours, whatever it's used to at home. Starters like a routine even more than they like flour.
--:--Checking the kitchen clock.
Sundays, 10:00: bath
Every guest moves into a clean jar warmed to 24 degrees. The old jar is washed in hot water with no soap and dried upside down on the rack. Nobody watches.
Rooms and rates
Four rooms, all with loose lids
Rates are per night, paid in your starter's own flour at collection and weighed on the kitchen scale while you watch.
The Whole-Wheat Dormitory
70 g of flour a night
Six jars on a two-tier shelf, bunked by age. Lights out at 22:30. Whispering is allowed. Rising over your neighbour is frowned upon.
- Sleeps six
- Shared bedtime story
- Lids labelled in pencil
- Best for guests under ten
The Warm Shelf Above the Fridge
120 g of flour a night
The fridge motor keeps it at 27 degrees. For sluggish guests, guests who arrive cold from the mountains and anyone who hasn't doubled since spring.
- 27 °C, give or take the motor
- A low, steady hum
The Quarantine Wing
40 g a night, plus patience
For guests with hooch. Pour-off every morning, a clean warm jar every second day, and visits through the glass only, until they smell of yoghurt again.
- Daily pour-off
- Discharged after two good rises in a row
- Kept well away from the Suite
In residence
Currently staying with us
Eleven guests this week. Six agreed to be introduced. The others are asleep and asked not to be photographed.
Old Teodor
- From
- Sibiu. Came by night train in a thermos flask.
- Manner
- Silent. Rises anyway.
- Quirk
- Rises exactly 2.1 times, every time, and looks down on anyone who does more.
Madame Anouk
- From
- Lyon, in a hatbox, wearing a silk scarf.
- Manner
- Theatrical.
- Quirk
- Only doubles when someone is watching. Staff take it in turns.
Pim
- From
- A fourth-floor flat in Rotterdam, above a bicycle shop.
- Manner
- Very keen.
- Quirk
- Has climbed out of the jar four times this week. Has been spoken to.
Signora Benedetta
- From
- Bari, in her grandmother's jar, which still smells of capers.
- Manner
- Warm. Talks to every new arrival.
- Quirk
- Goes a little sour on Sundays and will not say why.
Ása and Bóel
- From
- Uppsala. Split from the same mother in 2020.
- Manner
- Not speaking to each other.
- Quirk
- Rise at exactly the same minute anyway.
Mr Hollis
- From
- Leeds. Arrived with a centimetre of hooch and a note.
- Manner
- Sheepish.
- Quirk
- Sends up one big bubble whenever someone says his owner's name.
House rules
- No commercial yeast on the premises.Visitors carrying a sachet leave it in the car, windows down.
- Every guest eats its own flour.We do not swap, top up or mix, however nicely a guest asks.
- Lids stay loose.Nobody at Pension Levain is sealed in.
- Hooch is poured off at the sink.It is never stirred back in and never mentioned at breakfast.
- No discarding in front of the other guests.Discard happens in the scullery, with the door shut.
- Lights out at 22:30.The fridge hum counts as silence.
- Owners may telephone once a day.The starter will not come to the phone.
- The cat stays off the Warm Shelf.Her name is Fenugreek and she knows exactly why.
The management, and Fenugreek (non-voting)
No commercial yeast beyond this pointFound one in a guest's luggage once, in 2019. We still talk about it.
Is it ready
The poke test
Before an owner takes home a loaf, we poke it. Flour a finger, press about a centimetre in, let go and watch how the dough comes back. Try it on this one.
How long it has been provingGo on, press it.Press the dough and let go. How it comes back tells you whether to bake.
Check-in
Book a shelf
Fill this in and we print your starter's boarding pass.
Nothing is sent anywhere. The pass is made right here on this page, and it forgets itself when you close the tab.
Bring with you
- Its own flour, about a kilo for each week away
- The jar it knows, washed
- A label with its name, in pencil
- A photo of the family (optional, it helps)
The boarding pass
prints here
prints here
Pension Levain · boarding pass
- Room
- Feeds
- Checked in
- Postcard
- Bill
Day three
A postcard from Pim
Every guest writes home on day three. The guest dictates, we hold the pen, and it goes out with the 11:00 post.
Day 3.
Dear Joost,
The lady feeds me at 07:00 exactly, even on Saturday. I have a bunk under a very old rye called Teodor. He has not said one word, but he moved his jar 2 cm closer to mine, which I think is friendship.
Last night's story was the baguette who went to sea. I rose 2.4 times. The lady wrote it down in the book.
Please bring the good flour back with you and not the one in the blue bag.
Love, Pim
P.S. I only climbed out once. Maybe twice.
Joost and family
Room 12, the hotel with
the blue shutters
Naxos, Greece
greetings fromPension Levain