Sunday, November 24, 2024
HomeOpinionsDalhousieCampus food not diverse

Campus food not diverse

Too much coffee, not enough variety. Photo by Michael Cestnik
Too much coffee, not enough variety. Photo by Michael Cestnik

More independent vendors are needed at Dal

I feel like Indiana Jones when I try to find somewhere decent to eat on campus. I’m wandering around, searching for this extremely esoteric, highly sought after artifact, whose existence is one of those debatable “hot ticket” issues.

It seems like no matter what building I’m in there’s the same dilapitated rainbow of bruised, multinational campus food supplier sandwiches, one or two salads or fruit and yogurt cups, and an ominous swath of Pepsi products just staring blankly at me, saying “Don’t ask me, man. I just work here.”

I sometimes circle the campus in a frustrated, hungry anxiety, asking myself when and where I’ll finally cave in: a Tim Hortons bagel? One of those anemic, drooping Pizza Pizza slices? One of the Second Cup muffins I occasionally find random pockets of salt in? Another large dark roast? Let’s be honest, it’s probably going to be the coffee, but it really shouldn’t be this hard, Dalhousie, and shepherding in more gigantic food conglomerates isn’t going to make it any better. Ignoring the issue of the inevitable 15 person line-up that will perpetually stand outside of the new Subway in the Killam, there’s the issue of why we’re even getting a Subway in the first place (and naturally, a Quizno’s on top of that).

It doesn’t stop there. As much as I didn’t appreciate residence meal hall pizza in first year, I certainly don’t appreciate Aramark gussying it up and trying to pass it off as “old style pizza” with their new Topio’s brand in the Mona Campbell Building. It’s a certain kind of unnerving bewilderment when you receive a slice of veggie pizza where the amount of veggies you’d normally find on one slice is shredded finely and used to cover the entire pie.

I’m not fooled, Dal.

There are a multitude of Halifax eateries that would kill to have that kind of spot. Just think about how many hungover university kids would weep with joy over a Burrito Jax in the SUB. Aside from the odd days when some nutritionally philanthropic Dal society graces me with delicious free soup, or when I’m having a chat and a sausage with the Dawgfather (who, incidentally, won “Best Campus Eats” in The Coast this year), I’m frustrated and resentful of Dalhousie’s lack of legitimate, independent vendors. Even our official campus bar, The Grawood, disregards our local products, passing up literally award-winning microbrewed beers in favour of being sponsored by a mass-produced range of Molson (and its parent company’s) products, whose flavour palettes more closely resemble Perrier, insulting both students and beer.

I’m not ignoring Coburg Coffee, by the way. They have delectable bagels and sandwiches. It’s just that they’re kind of a fringe entity in the minutiae of campus eats. They’re not technically *on* campus. They have, at best, a spiritual affiliation with Dal.

It turns out the only truly legitimate place to grab a savoury, full-fledged bite on campus is the new Grad House. I was as surprised as you. With food sourced locally from Halifax market vendors, they offer a surprising array of real, delicious meals and snacks at decent prices, brew Lunenburg-roasted, fair-trade Laughing Whale coffee, and even have Garrison beer on tap.

Even so, despite providing a sorely needed oasis in a desert of desserts, trademarks and logos, we have two independent vendors and an occasional free soup? That still leaves us with frighteningly slim pickings as far as the nutritional, guilt-free between-class-bites are concerned, and the blame rests solely on Dal.

So what’s the deal, Dal?

Nick Laugher
Nick Laugher
Never profiting from the pithy pitfalls or pedantic antics of the common journalist, Nick "Noose Papermen" Laugher has continuously baffled readers by demonstrating a rare understanding of the vagaries of our current cultural climate. Rumored to have been conceived and raised in the nook of a knotty pine somewhere in the Pacific Northwest, Laugher was forced to abandon his true calling (pottery) after having one night experienced a vision in which a wise and generous hawk appeared to him through the shimmering static of his television set. The apparition spoke to Laugher of an aching need for some new kind of media perspective, one that elegantly incorporated esoteric vocabulary, gratuitous alliteration and penetrating pun-manship. And so it was. And so it is. And so it always will be.
RELATED ARTICLES

Most Popular

Recent Comments