Mystery Meat and the Cost of Produce

Before I left for college, I thought I knew what I would miss most: My parents, my friends, my dog, and my room. I was wrong. Although I do miss all of those parts of my life, in the age of video chats, none of them seem that far away. And while it is incredibly overstuffed, my college dorm room, with its flannel comforter and movie posters, seems almost as much like home as my room in Los Angeles. What I really miss is the food.

A friend's dad used to tease me that I would not be able to stand college food. He said that my parents had destroyed any pleasure I might get from 'normal food' forever. I will admit, my mother seemed to take an intense pleasure in crafting new dishes out of the local produce she got at the farmer's market. Despite this, I came to college determined to prove him wrong. I was ready to embrace college food in the post-mystery meat era. In the first week I was optimistic. Between the stir-fry station and the turkey, lettuce, tomato and hummus wraps I figured I was set. Then I discovered the La Guardia Sandwich: chicken, bacon, lettuce, tomatoes, onion, pepper jack, barbeque sauce, and ranch dressing. I didn't understand how that combination could be good, but it was. I was set. College food didn't faze me. I was going to survive.

That optimism lasted about a month and a half. Then I recognized that my hope that the dining hall fruit would be fresher the next day, or week, or month would probably never be realized. So I abandoned the overripe and bruised apples. After all, I did have money to spend, so I went on a quest for the fruits I had loved so much at home: pomegranates, passion fruit, and plums. After one trip to the local farmer's market, located four blocks away, I realized that the odds of me getting up earlier than I needed to for class ever again were slim to none. So, I went to the grocery store, and there it was, a full display of pomegranates. I was excited, until I looked at the price.

One single pomegranate cost as much as the falafel from the restaurant down the street. I felt exceedingly foolish spending as much on a single piece of fruit as I had on dinner the night before. I had never realized before how much produce costs. Even after I had abandoned my ideals about the benefits of organic fruit and considered the conventional alternatives, it still cost more than I had ever realized. In a suite where one of the girls informed me that she didn't eat fruit because it took "too much effort" there is no sharing of the grocery costs.

At school it's all about a delicate balance between buying too much and risking the fruit going bad, and buying too little which in turn makes repeated trips to the store necessary. I will admit there is a certain heady rush that comes with shopping alongside people obviously past their college years. But would it be too much to ask to have one good piece of fruit to include in the ten-dollar-per-entrance meals at the dining hall?

The other thing that is noticeably absent is seafood. It's not like I would trust a piece of fish cooked by the dining hall even if they took it upon themselves to cook it, but I went from eating fish at least three times a week to eating it only during our occasional outings for cheap sushi. I yearn for a piece of fish. Now that I've convinced my parents to let me buy a panini maker (promising I will never leave it on when I leave the room) and our electric stove has finally been repaired so that the burners work (even though they emit a foul odor whenever we turn them on), I have renewed hope for the future. While it might take up my whole budget, I'm going to buy food and attempt to recreate some semblance of home, through cooking.

But while I do know how to make a number of dishes, I hold no illusions that I'll be able to recreate what I was used to at home. At least I'll be assured that whatever I'm putting in my mouth is less suspect than the mystery meat that they pass off in the cafeteria as steak on Sunday steak nights. Yes, it's true. Despite the claims, mystery meat is still very much around. Except, now, instead of calling it mystery meat, they call it steak, cut it into thin grey pieces and throw mashed potatoes on top of it before you get a good enough look at the meat to realize that it's really hardly more than gristle. So, in preparation of going home for Thanksgiving, I've talked to my mom about a few of the favorite dishes that I've been missing. I'm hoping she'll get the hint and decide to make them.