(For the first sentence, please read using the voice of my 75-year-old grandfather Walter, who grew up in Queens)
Back in my day, college food meant two things: soda and starch.
(Switch back to normal voice)
Pasta and potatoes were the menu de rigueur, vessels for the usual assortment of loaves, parmesans, stir-frys and surprises that dotted the menu. Occasionally my friends and I would raid the leftovers of a banquet or feign interest in the Caribbean Students Association, hoping for lukewarm finger sandwiches or jerk chicken.
So imagine my surprise when I saw this headline in the Wall Street Journal today:
Dude, Those Candied Walnuts Go Great at a Kegger: Chefs Move Frat Food Beyond the Beer Nut; A Bone to Pick With the Osso Buco
The school in question? Our own Southern Methodist University. The article also brings up the haute cuisine dotting frat houses at the University of Washington and Cornell University.
The menu at SMU’s Sigma Phi Epsilon?
…free-range ribeye steak with rosemary-infused red potatoes, fresh spinach and strawberry salad with candied walnuts and a raspberry vinaigrette and homemade apple pie à la mode
Maybe I missed something, but isn’t part of the allure of college eating crappy food, then drinking crappy beer?
(Turn back on the “Walter” voice)
I once survived an entire week on Utz Party Mix, with its food pyramid of pretzels, cheese balls, tortilla chips, and some sort of Dorito knockoff. Dinner that same year usually consisted of three boxes of Zatarains, two bags of frozen mixed veggies, and a pack of Nathans, cooked in one pot. And we left that damn pot on the stove all week, until it was gone.
Somebody get me a Natural Light.