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Food<br />
I set out to write the great American novel but ended up working for the yearbook as an unpaid<br />
restaurant critic. W hat’s worse, I’m stuck in the cafeteria section. Things are just not looking<br />
good for me. My assignment: the cafeterias of Mount Scopus. It would not be a good day.<br />
“New York, Neeeew Yooork!” The last refrain of that tune just wouldn’t go away. Oh Frank<br />
Sinatra, you have glorified a great city, buddied with mobsters, and lent your name to the<br />
greatest food emporium our fair school has to offer. But like all great eateries, “Frankie’s” has<br />
its quirks—like the Chinese chickem One is always given the choice of harif or bli harif, yet it<br />
always tastes the same. Or those incomparable french fries: no matter if they’re fresh from the<br />
fryer or left overnight, that trademark limpness is omnipresent. Nonetheless, Frank’s remains<br />
quite popular among the lunchtime crowd.<br />
A quick jog across the Nancy Reagan Plaza (in solidarity therewith, my review was cleared ahead<br />
of time with Dr. Love, my astrologer) and I walk down to the Education building and the location<br />
of my second meal—the Stark Cafeteria. “Stark” is the theme borrowed from the quality of the<br />
food. The schnitzel here is unique, a thin slab of chicken fried in bread crumbs with absolutely no<br />
effect on the human taste buds. A blue ribbon panel of biochemists has yet to explain this<br />
amazing dish served up hundreds of times a day, year after year, by a crack team of chefs who, in<br />
all fairness, brew the best matzah ball soup on campus.<br />
With lead in my belly I slowly ambled outside and over to the Social Science wing, there to review<br />
a light meal in the “Veggie Cafe.” Now this place is no Off the Square, but in my opinion offers<br />
the tastiest meal for the best price. A fine if unchanging selection of cheese, potato, and spinach<br />
pies is available to the hungry student. Lifeless round pizza slices (just like mom used to pull out<br />
of the toaster oven) are also a local delicacy. A big thumbs down, though, for the odor that the<br />
Veggie Cafe wafts out into the hallway. A scent not unlike that found around a backyard<br />
compost heap seems to put off hungry but weak-stomached students. All in all, you won’t starve<br />
on Mt. Scopus, but that’s as far as I’m willing to go. Say, anyone want to go to Norman’s for a<br />
burger?
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