After proving to friends and family it was horrifyingly possible to live solely on ramen noodles and coffee for six consecutive college semesters without dying of scurvy, I decided it may be in my best interest to turn my dorm life around and opt for healthier alternatives.  From 2006 to 2008 I embraced a carcinogen-laced “diet” and an exercise routine which consisted of staring at my dusty yoga mat for a solid five minutes, weighing the pros and cons of physical activity, and eventually breaking a sweat and taking a nap instead.  But I turned things around; and as trite and commonplace as this always sounds, I still have to say, it changed my life.  I am not a dietitian, a personal trainer, or most terrifying of all, a hippie.  I am not a wealthy housewife with an endless window of time to engage in celebrity workouts and make fresh pasta.  I am a college student; I find myself eating things that are clearly not edible, I usually would prefer to be napping, and my God, I need to get motivated like ETSU needs to revamp their financial aid office.  I need something healthy, something classy, in my dormitory life of mysterious smells and loud rap music.  This blog is for the non-morning people, the people who love donuts more than anything else on earth, the people who never seem to have enough energy and despise the people who always do.  This is a non-expert’s guide on how you can live in a college dorm, one of the foulest environments known to man, and still maintain your health, happiness, and a refreshing air of classiness and sophistication—even if that only means listening to Beethoven while you eat brie and crackers in your nest-like bed.  We may be impoverished college students who change our majors like underwear, but we can still live the life!

Let us now wrench open the large, ornate door that leads to the exclusive world of ARTISAN BREAD MAKING.  Yes, it is possible to knead dough peacefully in your dorm room. Today we will be making potato bread with a recipe from a fantastic, fantastic cookbook—“The Cheese Board” by The Cheese Board Collective (with some minor changes to accommodate the destitute college student).

Equipment:(If you don’t own the following, try borrowing them from friends; and if that fails, look for them at a store called Ross—a dream world of ridiculously cheap cookware)
- one large mixing bowl
- one small mixing bowl
- one spoon
- measuring utensils (one cup, one tablespoon, one teaspoon)
- one peeler (for the potatoes)
- one sharp knife, or sharp razor blade, for slashing the dough
- a cutting board (if you don’t have a surface you’re okay with being encrusted with dough)
- a medium-sized towel
- one small oven-safe pan
- 1-2 loaf pans (or any kind of baking pan with about 2-inch high walls)
- oven mits

Ingredients:
- 1 tablespoon plus ½ teaspoon active dry yeast (not rapid rise yeast)
- ¼ cup warm water
- 4 cups bread flour (not all-purpose flour)
- 1 tablespoon plus ½ teaspoon kosher salt
- 1 teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 ¼ cups lukewarm water
- 2 russet potatoes, baked, cooled, and shredded
- cooking spray

Recommended Music for Artisan Bread Making:
- “A Bushel And A Peck” by Doris Day
- “Swan Lake, Op. 20 (Suite): II. Valse In A” by Berliner Philharmoniker
- “Tritsch-Tratsch Polka Opus 214” by Jascha Horenstein
- “Annen-Polka Opus 117” by Joseph Francek & Vienna Strauss Orchestra
- “Time After Time” by Chet Baker
- “I Fall In Love Too Easily” by Chet Baker
- “Milord” by Edith Piaf
- “Padam Padam” by Edith Piaf

Once you’ve entered the bread-making zone, the first step to yummy potato bread is preparing the yeast.  Make sure your dorm is fairly warm.  If the temperature gets too high or too low, the yeast may die.  I set my room thermostat to 75 degrees Fahrenheit.  If you’re using the Fleischmann brand of yeast, you can use the contents of one packet instead of measuring it out.  Mix the yeast and warm water in a small bowl until dissolved.  Let it stand for 5 minutes.

In a large mixing bowl, combine the flour, salt, and pepper.  Add the yeast mixture, olive oil, and lukewarm water to the bowl.  You can use a wooden spoon to mix these ingredients, but I always use my hands.  (It’s considerably messy and moderately fun, and hey, your hands are going to be engulfed in dough later anyway.)  Once you’ve combined the ingredients (it won’t be pretty), transfer the clumpy dough monster to a cutting board or other surface that has been lightly dusted with flour.  Knead the dough for about 10 minutes.  You can pretend you’re giving somebody a back massage.  You don’t have to be gentle with it, either—you can fold it and punch it as hard as you like!  If it’s still frustratingly sticky after 10 minutes, dust it with more flour; and if it’s too dry, pour tiny amounts of water over it as needed (and I mean tiny—dough is very sensitive).

Flatten out the dough and put the potato strips in the middle.  Roll the dough into a ball and continue to knead it for about 2 more minutes—but not so rough this time!  If you knead the potatoes too hard, your dough will get rather gummy.  After you’re done, form the dough into a ball again and place in a large bowl you’ve coated with olive oil.  I usually just wash out the big mixing bowl and use that.  Turn the dough over in the bowl to coat it with oil.  Cover the bowl with a damp kitchen towel and let it rise for 1 hour, or until it has doubled in size.

Lightly spray two baking pans with cooking spray.  This recipe makes 2 loaves, but if you only want to make one you can always freeze the remaining dough for next time.  I do not recommend making one super giant loaf; the bread will be extremely dense and kind of disgusting, ew.  Divide the dough in half and shape the two pieces into balls on your floured surface.  Cover them with a floured kitchen towel, and let them rise for about 10 minutes.  Shape each piece into a loaf and place in the prepared baking pans.  Sprinkle flour over the tops of the loaves and spread it out evenly with your hand.  Cover the loaves with a floured kitchen towel and let rise for 45 minutes.

Fifteen minutes before the loaves have finished rising, place a small pan on the floor of the oven.  Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.

Slash the tops of the loaves with a sharp knife or razor blade.  Three slashes will do, but you can get creative if you want.  Let the loaves sit for 5 more minutes so the slashes can open a bit.

Throw ice cubes in the baking pan on the floor of the oven and immediately put the loaves in the oven—so as not to lose any steam.  Bake for 5 minutes, then put more ice cubes in the pan.  Bake 10 minutes longer, then rotate the pans for even cooking.  Bake 25 to 30 minutes longer, for a total baking time of 40 to 45 minutes, or until the loaves are golden and sound hollow when tapped on the bottom.  USE OVEN MITS TO REMOVE THE PANS!  I made the big mistake of using a towel, and I am sad to say I burnt all of my fingertips and immediately delivered a string of obscenities that caused a few residents to promptly exit the kitchen.  OVEN MITS!  (Avoid searing off your fingerprints unless you have some illegal motive in mind).  Let the loaves cool on the top of the stove, then EAT THEM.  Salute!

Making bread is a time-consuming art form, so don’t be discouraged if your loaves turned out like smelly bricks.  Rejoice in the fact that you just partook in an activity that has been taking place for centuries, and you did it in a dorm.  Take that, rich housewives of Sonoma!  I hope you felt absurdly classy and managed to have a delightful voyage into the wonderful world of artisan bread. À bientôt, mes amis!