As a lifetime city rat, I’ve never had much interest in the way my food was produced. As a “foodie” (although I do hate that word), however, I’m supposed to know my locally sourced free-range organic grass-fed cow’s milking cycle like clockwork, lest my hard-earned street cred be revoked. So I, as broke college student, must balance my lofty ideals with the cold reality of my checking account when going for weekly groceries. So when I heard that, during a certain allotted time on Wednesday afternoons, a small room would open in the Andrew Boss Lab of Meat Science (I know, I thought the name was cool too) and I would be able to purchase my sweet, life-sustaining Feta cheese at a fraction of the price of a Co-Op’s, I understandably jumped at the opportunity.

The bus ride to St. Paul really isn’t all that bad, and while mildly confusing, the campus itself is fairly compact and winningly verdant, so what seemed like a potential odyssey on the outset became a rather pleasant jaunt. In the basement of this lab of Meat Science there is a veritable maze of hallways, walk-in-refrigerators and laboratories where actual mad science is being practiced, beakers and all. Once you’ve navigated the labyrinth you might meet Jodi Nelson, the Senior Lab Services Coordinator for the Dairy Salesroom. A genial woman with an office oddly stuffed full of gourmet rootbeer, test tubes, and various other snack foods, Nelson occasionally raises her voice to get confirmation from a coworker across the room on the historical accuracy of the facts she’s giving me.

By consensus, it was divined that the Dairy Salesroom was opened some time between 1958 and 1960 and serves as a way to sell off the projects of students in the dubiously named “Ice Cream Class” and “Cheesemaking Class.” For a CLA student, it’s rather difficult for me to imagine my final grade for a term hinging on my professor’s taste in vanilla, but I suspended a bit of disbelief and soldiered on.

Apparently, the department is awash with student-produced dairy product, and thus can afford to sell high-quality goods for discount prices, with the aforementioned kicker of only being open for two hours on a Wednesday every week. This, of course, leads to a line.

All sorts of people begin to queue up at roughly 2:45 outside the salesroom: older professionals, neighborhood residents, students and staff. Those in the line chat amongst themselves about favorite flavors and stories of how they discovered this little gem and when the doors finally open at 3 p.m. the line gently but firmly presses inward. The Salesoom itself is about the size of triple-dorm room, with a small table of free samples. The Housemade Chili Cheese M’s were delectably salty, something akin to what Fritos would be like if mom made ‘em. The “Brick” cheese was pleasantly sour and creamy, with a perfect soft, pop-able texture. The New World Bleu spread (one of the top sellers, according to Nelson) was a classic of the genre, tangy without being overwhelming while deliciously pungent.

I selected a few small chunks of cheese from behind the counter (assisted by Nelson herself) from a large variety of types and sizes, eventually settling on Feta, Colby Jack and Gruyere. The Dairy Salesroom will often sell small chunks of cheese, the size that can be finished in one sitting, for $1-2 with the knowledge than many students just drop by for a snack. Against a far wall lie two long refrigerator cases full of a multitude of ice cream flavors. My bewildered companion and I finally settled on “Black Raspberry Xplosion” and “Cookies and Coffee” and approached a couple of student-staffed cashiers to pay surprisingly little.

On our way out we stopped to talk to Kathryn Macziewski, a Retail Merchandise major and Kelly Rinehart, a Food Sciences major, about their ice cream selections. Rinehart’s “White House” (vanilla with Bordeaux Cherries) merited an “8.3 on a scale of 1 to 10,” whilst Macziewski’s Chocolate Peanut-Butter Truffle earned a more succinct “awesome, very good.”

My Cookies and Coffee ice cream promised Oreo chunks that were never realized but was otherwise delightfully rich. What it lacked in coffee flavor was made up for a pleasantly mellow cookie-chocolate mixture. My friend’s Black Raspberry Xplosion fared slightly poorer, earning a 6 out of 10 from her despite its charmingly authentic fruit flavor. The cheeses were all excellent, with the Colby Jack being the standout. The feta, while not made with the traditional goat’s milk, was still musty and delicious. The Gruyere was a study in subtlety, with a dry, nutty flavor that stood nicely next to the powerful tangy Jack.

So perhaps campus foodies who frequently find they’re eating themselves out of rent money have found a new savior in the Dairy Salesroom, a tucked away little secret in the sleepy eastern campus. If they’re smart, they’ll keep the word to themselves, because an opportunity this good will have campus lining up down the block.

Tags: food