On Cooking and the Sourdough Culture that Lives in My Dorm

Happy sourdough starter, alive with dorm bacteria...maybe don't think about that too much

“Well, in a world where so few of us are obliged to cook at all anymore, to choose to do so is to lodge a protest against specialization—against the total rationalization of life. Against the infiltration of commercial interests into every last cranny of our lives. To cook for the pleasure of it, to devote a portion of our leisure to it, is to declare our independence from the corporations seeking to organize our every waking moment into yet another occasion for consumption.“ - Michael Pollan, Cooked: A Natural History of Transformation

Eight months ago I departed my Ohio home and all of its lovely comforts. Two days before I left, my sweet dad made pancakes, special for me. I thought it to be the kindest possible gesture, and I suppose I tucked the memory away in some particular part of my brain. I moved into my new dorm, and began classes. I wasn’t bothered by the food served in the dining hall in the least. In fact, I actually kind of liked it. I never grew tired of the cubed melons served during the day, and was ecstatic to find that the salad bar was stocked with lettuce with tiny bugs still crawling around on it (the ultimate test of local and organic produce in my book). In spite of all of this, I began to constantly crave pancakes. I didn’t often eat pancakes at home, nor did I, like with some other dishes, have a special recipe or preparation method. After contemplating my peculiar desire for this breakfast food, I realized that it must be my sub-conconscious way of missing my sweet dad, missing home and perhaps also the kitchen that I had spent so much time in. I knew I wouldn’t be able to find pancakes anywhere near by my college town: I don’t eat dairy or eggs, some of the key ingredients in the traditional pancake recipe, so I required a very special pancake concoction that turns out to be quite the rarity in rural Georgia. So one day, I found a recipe and happily spent a weeks worth of farm labor buying all of the ingredients for the pancakes I kept thinking about. I got up early one Sunday morning and cleaned the filthy dorm kitchen before beginning to cook. It was the first time I had used a stove or poured flour in several months, and I had forgotten that therapeutic and stimulating role that cooking had once played in my life. As perhaps demonstrated by the existence of this (albeit neglected) blog, the kitchen has always been a place of exploration and adventure for me. My favorite part of the process, however, was probably watching other people enjoy what I had created. As much as I smacked my brothers’ hands as they snatched up the balls of cookie dough that I carefully placed on baking sheets, I loved knowing that they enjoyed something that I created. Accordingly, when I finally made the pancakes that I had been hoping for, I was sure to invite anyone that I thought might come. As a shy first semester freshman, I didn’t exactly have very many friends to call upon, but somehow my table was populated with kind people and my pancake dreams were fulfilled. 

my dorm desk: the after math of baking frenzy

There is something about standing around a stove, or sitting around a home cooked meal with people that I think modern society, and college students particularly, really miss out on. In a dining hall or restaurant, the kitchen is in the back and the preparation is hidden. I forget the effort that goes into chopping fruit when it is in a giant bowl in a buffet line. The other day I found myself in the dining hall refrigeration room working on a project and I noticed boxes upon boxes of pineapples. I didn’t consider until that moment that with my outrageous admiration of dining hall fruit I probably consumed one of those pineapples every day—a whole pineapple! Imagine all of the effort that goes into growing and harvesting and then shipping the seven pineapples that I eat every week?! 

All that to say, I have taken to cooking  regularly in the (sometimes nasty) dorm kitchen. My mom shipped me my sourdough culture from home, and I have been keeping it alive in my dorm. I made bread one time, and am attempting to perfect my sourdough pancake recipe. There is something special about gathering around a stove with people, and I’m grateful that I now get to do it often.

Below is the recipe that I use for sourdough pancakes, adapted from this blog. However, I admit that I don’t have measuring cups so I mostly eyeball everything.

Ingredients:

About 300 g sourdough culture*

1 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon raw sugar

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 tablespoon baking soda

*I am still looking to experiment with this but I noticed that the pancakes turn out much sweeter if you feed the starter a bit of flour shortly before making the batter. Without that step, the pancakes taste mildly (sometimes strongly) like cheez-its.

Instructions:

• Mix all of the ingredients except baking soda together
• Heat the skillet and grease with coconut oil if necessary (my new cast iron pan has not been much needing it)
• medium heat is what I go for
• Mix in the baking soda
• the concoction should take on the consistency of whipped cream
• Pour batter into pan and flip only when the entire top looks completely dry