The Wake

Living in a dorm feels like being stuck on a huge ocean liner. You’re confined to a stuffy cabin, the winds sound like dogs fighting against your window and since the kitchens already got your money, the food gets increasingly more apathetic. It’s similar to staying at an all-inclusive hotel, where the drinks are watered-down and the fried ice cream is simply a scoop of vanilla stuck in a defrosted puff pastry. By the end, your family is sick and you’re surviving on sugary cereal.

All students who are living in University housing without a kitchen in their room are required to have a meal plan, which can be used at any of the dining halls. Many students go for a plan of 150 meals and $100 of FlexDine, at a rate of $1,347 per semester. That comes up to be about $8.30 per meal. For that much money, you could buy two Panda bowls of chicken and noodles at Coffman’s Minnesota Marketplace, or an entire lunch entrée at Loring Pasta Bar. $8.30 isn’t so bad for say, a football player who walks through the buffet and eats two bagels, a chicken breast, three different beverages and some ice cream. But when I show up for breakfast and eat a bowl of cereal and a cup of weak coffee, I can’t help but imagine the strawberry-filled, whip cream-adorned Swedish crêpes that I could be eating for less at a real restaurant.

“Eating at UDS really helps keep your weight down,” freshman Elizabeth Spencer, points out. Another freshman from Comstock, Emily Hanson, later says, “I can’t see how I’d gain the freshman 15. Maybe five pounds, with the money I have left to eat at other places.”

My dorm, Comstock, gets less-than-raving reviews. Unlike Middlebrook or Centennial, who have pizza at most meals, Comstock’s staples are burgers and huge slabs of meat. The salad bar leaves ice crystals on the vegetables, and there is often one key utensil out of stock. Breakfast is fairly decent, with a consistent supply of muffins, although my friends and I suspect that after Christmas break too many manifestations of the potato (tater tots, potato squares) were sacrificed due to an accidental surplus of hash browns. Among other surpluses are squash, which seems to be in every dish and water chestnuts. Such occurrences lead one to believe that the inspiration for whatever blend of entrées is provided usually has to do with which vegetables the company can get at the cheapest rates.

Sanford is probably the best bet for quality food. Their expo stations don’t get squash-happy, and when they try out Malaysian or Italian food, it actually tastes exotic. They usually provide more types of bread and vegetables than other dorms, and have the news playing on multiple TVs. The view is the best as well; on a sunny day, all of the Minneapolis skyline can be seen.

The problem with the inequalities between dining halls goes back to my ship metaphor: you’re stuck at your own dorm the majority of the time. Very rarely do I want to put down my Italian book, put on boots and a parka, and walk in subzero weather for a slight chance that there might be fresher bread or a better slab of meat at a different dorm.

Probably the most common complaint is that there is no variety and quality in the staples. What many resort to when the noodles look dry or there simply is no hot food is the things like cereal, ice cream and sandwiches. But by spring, most people have eaten Reese’s Puffs literally ad nauseum. I can’t even make it through an entire ice cream cone anymore if it’s the traditional strawberry, chocolate or vanilla. It can’t be that hard to rotate in some Trix cereal every once in a while, or provide a type of jelly that wasn’t bitter, and didn’t have to be scooped out of a vat.

Vegetarian options are provided, but lots of vegetarians aren’t pleased. “Non-meat protein is something that needs to be offered more, not just for the health of vegetarians, but for anyone who wants to avoid red meat, Stephanie O’Donnell says.” She also thinks that veggie-friendly Morningstar products are delicious, and she’d like to see more of them. “Even meat eaters scarf the products down,” she says.

I’ll admit that having a meal plan does help your social life; you instantly have something to complain about with every other dorm resident. And there’s nothing like a taking your date to the cafeteria for some fried eggplant and watery cappuccino.