2008 Woodie Awards
I'll have a wrap, hold the crickets
Skylar Charry
Issue date: 9/13/07 Section: Op/Ed
- Page 1 of 1
The mandatory meal plan for freshman and subsequent students that choose to live on campus should live up to its billing. At the conclusion of each semester, students find themselves begging their friends for 'swipes,' or using one full swipe for a bottle of water; the meal plan issue does not stop here. When a college decides to add the meal plan to tuition, there is an obligation to make sure that the food is sanitary, healthy, and enjoyable.
After spending the Spring 2007 semester in England and having survived cuisines such as Spotted Dick, Bubble & Squeak and Toad-in-the-Hole, I wasn't particularly concerned about reverse culture shock with regards to food.
Last Tuesday, I sat down for a typical 20-minute lunch in GQ with a handful of friends. Mid chow, I glanced at my half eaten wrap and discovered a dead, cricket-like insect marinated in honey mustard poking through. The lifeless bug was staring up at me, nestled comfortably between the pieces of lettuce. The nausea and goose bumps that ensued were endless.
I happen to be a big supporter of the organic food movement but not when my spring mix is fresh off of the field. I acknowledge and appreciate the fact that in some countries, insects are a delicacy, but in Allentown, Pa., they are not.
As a result of my fear factor-esque experience, I am extremely reluctant to eat on campus. My parents will have spent a substantial amount of money on the meal plan for food that I don't care to eat. It seems very appropriate that this school year happens to be the conclusion of the food contract with Sodexho.
I don't claim to be some sort of expert in dining services, but I do know that the college hires people who go to school and major in the field of this kind of management. My suggestion is that quality control should be of utmost importance to the employees and committees that spend their days toiling with these kinds of issues.
The aesthetic changes made to the Muhlenberg dining facilities are simply not enough. Jumbo jars of olives and peppers in front of the deli in GQ are not going to ensure that the food passed over the glass partition is actually sanitary.
After spending the Spring 2007 semester in England and having survived cuisines such as Spotted Dick, Bubble & Squeak and Toad-in-the-Hole, I wasn't particularly concerned about reverse culture shock with regards to food.
Last Tuesday, I sat down for a typical 20-minute lunch in GQ with a handful of friends. Mid chow, I glanced at my half eaten wrap and discovered a dead, cricket-like insect marinated in honey mustard poking through. The lifeless bug was staring up at me, nestled comfortably between the pieces of lettuce. The nausea and goose bumps that ensued were endless.
I happen to be a big supporter of the organic food movement but not when my spring mix is fresh off of the field. I acknowledge and appreciate the fact that in some countries, insects are a delicacy, but in Allentown, Pa., they are not.
As a result of my fear factor-esque experience, I am extremely reluctant to eat on campus. My parents will have spent a substantial amount of money on the meal plan for food that I don't care to eat. It seems very appropriate that this school year happens to be the conclusion of the food contract with Sodexho.
I don't claim to be some sort of expert in dining services, but I do know that the college hires people who go to school and major in the field of this kind of management. My suggestion is that quality control should be of utmost importance to the employees and committees that spend their days toiling with these kinds of issues.
The aesthetic changes made to the Muhlenberg dining facilities are simply not enough. Jumbo jars of olives and peppers in front of the deli in GQ are not going to ensure that the food passed over the glass partition is actually sanitary.