That hurried method was, as far as I can tell, perfected (I say this in the sense that it truly cannot get any better) by Charles Van Over in his book, “The Best Bread Ever,” published in 1997 and set to be revised as an e-book this fall. Van Over makes the best home baguettes of anyone I’ve ever met. In any case, both the “not-quite-whole-grain bread” and whole-wheat focaccia recipes are adaptations (by me, not Van Over) of his technique. The key “ingredient” in Van Over’s method, aside from his precision, is the food processor, which “kneads” the dough in 45 seconds, developing gluten in much the same way an overnight rise does.

Image Credit Marcus Nilsson for The New York Times; Food stylist: Brian Preston-Campbell

The overnight rise is at the heart of my second revelation, a result of my well-known (to bread bakers, anyway) encounter with Jim Lahey of Sullivan Street Bakery, based in Hell’s Kitchen and Chelsea. Lahey slowed the process down, reducing the yeast and combining a slow rise and an oven-within-an-oven baking method described in his book, “My Bread” (written with Rick Flaste, a former Times editor). This method essentially replaces kneading with time and takes at least 12 hours. (For further discussion, consult “No-Knead Bread,” which ran in The Times in November 2006, along with the hundreds of blog posts, comments and wonderful, thoughtful variations it spurred.)

Finally, I came to the realization that great 100 percent whole-grain bread can be made only with sourdough (it’s about the difference between how whole grains respond to store-bought yeast and how they respond to acid, or a combination of acid and wild yeast), and I discovered that via a combination of driving other people crazy with questions and a recipe from “The Scandinavian Cookbook,” by my friend Trine Hahnemann. When I visited Hahnemann just over a year ago, I requested a lesson in Danish rye and got one. That plus her recipe has propelled me at least halfway up the mountain.

The recipe here is, again, an adaptation, though it’s close to her original. The sourdough method, which I have found to be the most reliable way to produce a starter, is from “Bread Alone,” by Daniel Leader and Judith Blahnik, a fine bread-baking book that gets a bit technical for me. (If you find my route overly simplistic, buy “Bread Alone.”) Sourdough rye requires time: a few days to make the starter, and 12 hours or so every time you want to make bread. But kneading? No.

For those who like a dense, chewy, flavorful loaf, Hahnemann’s rye is the find of a lifetime. You can make it lighter in texture and color by using a touch of white flour in place of whole wheat, though to me that defeats the purpose. You can make it darker in color — gorgeously so — by adding roasted malt powder. Seeds — fennel, caraway, anise — add flavor. If it’s too chewy for you, use flour in place of cracked rye. Finally — and this may be hard to believe — it’s best when wrapped in plastic and cured for a day before eating.