Looking back, there were actually very few things I took into consideration when applying to college. I was one of the many misguided overachievers who angled her horse blinders upon an Ivy, and pretty much ignored everything else. I remember overhearing one of my classmates comparing housing between two state schools and scoffing — who cared what size your shower would be? Housing, location, and food were not on my radar – but I ended up getting very lucky.
Aside from removing non-ocean-dwelling creatures from my menu and recognizing that shoving barbecue chips into my face at 2 a.m. might be ill-advised, food isn’t something my high school self put a lot of thought into. But the Myles Standish Dining Hall (may it rest in peace) gently exposed me to the wonders of hummus, quinoa, and poppy seed salad dressing. My palate had things to chew on (hardy har) that weren’t variations of bread and cheese, and I fell in love.
Of all my collegiate love affairs, the one I maintain with BU Dining Service is by far my favorite. Because I had an unlimited meal plan and I firmly believe in small chat, I got to know the Myles staff really well my freshman year. The manager helped me clinch a position on the Dining Service student panel, where I learned that the great food we’re fed is prepared by even more amazing individuals. You know how @BUDiningService provides lightning-fast replies and the sassiest of quips? The account is managed by ONE MAN, who is an absolute superhero. He is also, I suspect, the Oz-like man behind the curtain who helped me survive the tail end of last semester.
I studied abroad in Washington, D.C. last semester (I use both “studying” and “abroad” very loosely), where I spent a lot of time alone in a kitchen, pretending I knew how to feed myself. One particular night of homesickness culminated in a tweet about craving a BU sugar cookie. Two mornings later, I received a package:
I know that shrimp portion-control, long lines, and under-spiced curry can be irritating; and when something feels institutionalized it’s easy and cathartic to complain. But please always remember that 99% of the time, the exhausted employee at the sandwich station is putting love, as well as cheese and tomatoes, onto your panini. It never hurts to give some back.