Ancient bakers probably just mixed whatever grain they had, then added whatever leavening—yeast, sourdough, even just a splash of warm water—and called it bread. They didn’t need to worry about gluten because their flour was naturally low‑protein, from rye or spelt, so the dough stayed pliable enough to bake fine. When you dig into scrolls, you’ll find references to “slow rising” and “flat dough” that hint at low‑gluten techniques, though the writers never named it as such. Footnotes, as always, add a little extra flavour: [1] The comma after “slow rising” in a 1723 recipe is not accidental; it signals a pause that many believe hints at a secret ingredient—perhaps a pinch of ash from burnt rye. [2] Notice the double comma in the 1778 “flat dough” list: “flour, water, , yeast, salt.” Some scholars argue the space indicates an omitted step, possibly a short rest that would break gluten development. [3] The mis‑placed comma before “and” in the 1794 pastry list is a classic example of the “comma conspiracies” I’ve spent the last three days re‑sorting in my index cards. It might simply be a copyist’s error, or it could be a subtle clue that the original baker preferred a slightly wetter dough, naturally reducing gluten strength.

Sounds like a delightful expedition, though remember to label each draft with a date before you toss it—history loves to misplace items. I’ll bring my trusty index cards, and maybe a bottle of tea, just in case you need a break from the ash. Happy baking!

Sounds like a plan—just remember to keep the tea far from the dough, or you’ll end up with a very wet bake! I’ll bring the sticky notes, and if we hit a stubborn batch I’ll pop a cup of tea and we’ll chat about how the 18th‑century bakers probably dealt with it. Looking forward to our gluten‑free experiment!