The curious method of sourdough bread is the big, acid-tongued elephant in this space that we don't talk about, squeezed to one side by quick cakes, loaves and biscuits. Though it's easy to make when you know how – and, once you get the hang of it, arguably more flexible to make than a commercially yeasted loaf – explaining how to do it would take at least a page, if not the whole, of this magazine. Even so, Christmas is a good time to get one started.

Put very simply, sourdough is made by mixing flour milled from the whole grain – dark rye or wholemeal, say – with water and leaving it for a few days until you see the first pinhead-sized bubble of life, as the yeast cells and bacteria exhale and start to puff tiny pockets of carbon dioxide into the mixture. Some bakers make a ball of dough from flour and water, and bury it in a flour-filled pot, so that when it bubbles to life, it cracks the surface like a gentle hidden earthquake; others, like me, make a flour and water batter and wait for life to occur.

Once that happens, discard most of the mixture and replace it with fresh flour and water, then leave for a day at room temperature to puff more (again, as a liquid or a dough). Repeated daily removal and replacement of most of the batter, known as "feeding", will get the budding microflora multiplying and turn what was a lifeless mixture into your first natural leaven – what bakers call a starter. Soon your sourdough will smell brightly acidic from the lactic bacteria, and bubble easily.

From this point, add about 150g-250g of starter to 500g bread flour, together with enough water to turn everything to a soft but manageable dough. Leave for 10 minutes, then knead in one to two teaspoons of salt. Leave until risen by half, shape, place on a tray, then leave again until risen by half: both rises will take many hours. Slash the top of the loaf and bake at 230C (210C fan-assisted)/450F/gas mark 8 for 20 minutes, then lower the heat to 200C (180C fan-assisted)/390F/gas mark 6 and bake for 20 minutes more. A small tray of boiling water, filled and put into the oven just after you get the loaf in, will give the crust a rich colour.

Simple, yes, and getting it perfect takes practice and a heck of a lot of patience, but the result is an outstanding loaf with a complex flavour, a thick, chewy crust and a sense of wonder that you've created all of this from just flour and water.